


i just want you to do me no good (and you look like you could)

by theprettiestbroom



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Elevator AU, Eventual Smut, F/F, eventual clexa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-04 08:27:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4131067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprettiestbroom/pseuds/theprettiestbroom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke holds out her hand, stretching it up to Lexa, who remains standing. “I’m Clarke.”</p><p>Lexa tentatively grabs her hand. “Of apartment 16A. I’m aware.” A pause. “Lexa.”</p><p>Clarke smirks. “Of apartment 14C. I’m aware.”</p><p>Lexa cracks a small smile and looks away from Clarke eyes. Lexa says lightly, “Mockery is not the product of a strong mind, Clarke.”</p><p>“Well, I am sitting on the floor of an elevator that’s stuck ten floors up. I would say that my mind isn’t the strongest right now.”</p><p>or, the elevator au</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The House of Fun

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not going to be able to update this very quicky because I've got a lot of stuff going on right now, but I'm going to try to keep up.
> 
> Title of this fic is from 'No. 1 Party Anthem' by the Arctic Monkeys.
> 
> You can follow me and ask me questions at: theprettiestbroom.tumblr.com

Clarke is running late, as usual.

Though, this time she actually cares that she’s late. She promised Octavia that she would help her and Lincoln paint their new apartment today, and if she’s late to that, she’ll be hearing about it, and paying for it, for an absurd amount of time.

So she jogs to the elevator lobby while pulling her hair up into a fairly messy bun. As she waits for the elevator, she thinks of what the fastest route to their apartment would be.

When the doors to the elevator finally open a minute or so later, Clarke makes her way inside of the small space, hitting the button to the first floor with a quick jab. She sighs when she feels the elevator slow just a few floors down. She doesn’t have time for this, but she can’t blame anyone for wanting to use the elevator; she’s in no position to judge. The doors open, and Clarke shifts to the side to make room for whoever is getting on the elevator.

A very attractive woman, Clarke soon sees. Green eyes, dark hair in a braid, and of course, she’s wearing a button down and blazer combo – one of Clarke’s mortal weaknesses.

The elevator suddenly shutters to a stop during Clarke’s once over of the woman. Both of them are unbalanced in the sudden stop, and the unsuspecting woman next Clarke crashes roughly into her side.

“Holy shit!” Clarke says, one hand on the wall, trying to keep her body steady as the other hand tries to keep the other women, who makes a similar exclamation, from falling to the floor. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I think so. I apologize.” The woman stands up straight as she gains her balance back. “That was just... unexpected.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Clarke says with her bright smile.

A pause. Then, with a wrinkled forehead, “That was a rather abrupt stop.”

“Maybe someone is getting on from this floor?”

“The doors should have opened by now.”

There’s another pause. Clarke doesn’t want to admit that it has been a little too long since the elevator stopped. “Maybe it needs a second to recover after stopping like that?”

The women next to her doesn’t say anything, she just stares at the doors impatiently, obviously waiting for them to open.

After a minute of tense silence, Clarke sighs. “Alright, I think we’re screwed. There’s no way it’s opening now.”

“It has to. I can't afford to be stuck on this elevator. Not now.” The woman’s reply is sharp, her frustration obvious. Her eyes look like they could kill, or at the very least, open the elevator doors.

“Is there a call button? We should probably let someone know we’re stuck.” Clarke searches the wall panel for the button.

“Here.” The brunette directs Clarke’s attention to a call button.

She hits it and waits for something to happen. Eventually, the elevator is filled with the voice of a woman who sounds immensely bored. “Yeah?”

“Uh, hi,” Clarke starts, unsure of what to say, “We’re sort of trapped in this elevator. It stopped moving a few minutes ago and hasn’t started up again. What are we supposed to do?”

The bored voice reappears as the PA crackles. “Which elevator?”

Clarke pauses. Shit. She didn’t remember to look. She was too preoccupied with the time to notice which elevator she got on. “Uh-”

The other woman pipes up, “Four. Elevator four.”

“Which floor?”

Again, the other women responds. “The elevator says we’re on floor 9.”

“Names and info?”

“Lexa Woods. Apartment 14C” The other women shifts her eyes to Clarke, waiting for her to supply her name and information.

“Clarke. Clarke Griffin. Apartment 16A,” Clarke quickly says without looking away from the woman’s eyes.

“We’ll have someone out shortly.”

“Uh,” The woman, Lexa apparently, starts as she turns her head back to the speaker in the ceiling. “How quickly will they be here?”

“Somewhere between one and four hours. Hang tight.” The voices cuts off with another crackle of the PA system.

“Up to four hours? Just to get a mechanic out here?! That’s crazy!” Lexa yells up at the ceiling – at nothing.

The agitation is becoming more apparent on Lexa’s face. Clarke wants to ease the woman’s frustration, but doesn’t know how. She doesn’t even know this woman.

“Fuck!” Lexa starts to pace the small space of the elevator. “This can’t be happening. Not to me.”

“Hey,” Clarke tries to say encouragingly. “It’ll be okay. Surely somebody will be on their way to fix it soon.”

“You can’t know that!” Lexa says, her eyes flashing with anger and something else, smaller and hidden. Maybe fear.

“I can hope. And you can too.” Clarke replies softly, trying to keep the situation calm. “We can’t freak out yet. It’s only been five minutes.”

“Yes, but I’m supposed to be on my way to class.”

 “Well, you might want to call someone and let them know that you’re going to need their notes from today. We likely aren’t going anywhere for a while.”

Lexa sighs as she checks her watch and then pulls out her phone. She punches in a number and holds the phone up to her ear. After a few seconds of silence, she pulls the phone away and looks down at it. “I should have guessed. No service.”

“Shit.” Clarke pulls out her phone as well. Lexa was right. No service. She’s not going to be able to tell Octavia she won’t be coming now. Hopefully she can just apologize later.

There’s a silence in the elevator. Lexa is rubbing at her temples.

Finally, Clarke decides to break the silence. “What do you want to do for the duration of our unwilling stay in this god forsaken elevator?”

“I want to get out of here.”

“Sorry,” Clarke smiles at Lexa. “That’s not one of the options right now.”

“Is there something you had in mind?”

Clarke settles unceremoniously onto the floor. It’s dirty, but she’s not going to stand while she waits for the mechanic to arrive. “We might as well get to know each other if we’re going to be stuck here for hours.” Clarke holds out her hand, stretching it up to Lexa, who remains standing. “I’m Clarke.”

Lexa tentatively grabs her hand. “Of apartment 16A. I’m aware.” A pause. “Lexa.”

Clarke smirks. “Of apartment 14C. I’m aware.”

Lexa cracks a small smile and looks away from Clarke eyes. Lexa says lightly, “Mockery is not the product of a strong mind, Clarke.”

“Well, I am sitting on the floor of an elevator that’s stuck ten floors up. I would say that my mind isn’t the strongest right now.”

Lexa’s lips quirk slightly as she looks around the cramped elevator with her arms crossed. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other. That’s when Clarke notices that Lexa is wearing high heels.

Clarke quickly strips off her hoodie and spreads it out on the floor between her and Lexa. Lexa raises a single eyebrow at her actions.

Clarke gestures towards her hoodie, “So you can sit and not get your pants dirty.”

“How chivalrous.”

“I just figured that you wouldn’t want to be standing in those heels for ‘one to four hours.’”

Lexa sighs as she bends down to rest on the floor next to Clarke. “I suppose not.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes before Clarke feels the need to break it. With her head tilted back against the wall, she looks at Lexa. “Have you ever been stuck in an elevator before?”

Lexa doesn’t look at her. “No.”

“Well, I have.” Clarke sighs looking up at the ceiling, “Freshman year, I got stuck in the elevator at 1 am. I was trying to leave my friends’ room after we stuffed our faces with multiple pizzas in celebration of finals being over.” Looking back over at Lexa, Clarke asks, “Want to know the worst part?”

Lexa looks over and raises her eyebrows.

“He lived on the third floor.”

Lexa eyebrows furrow. “Why would you take the elevator down three floors? That seems unnecessary.”

“Hey, don’t judge me too harshly!” Clarke smiles slightly at the memory. “It was late. I was tired and stuffed with at least seven slices of pizza.”

“That seems excessive.”

“That’s not even my record.” Clarke’s head lazily rolls back toward Lexa as she grins. “Make it a challenge and give me some alcohol, and I can forget that my stomach has walls.”

“Is pizza really worth that kind of stomach ache?” Lexa asks with the roll of her eyes.

“Every single time.”

**

Lexa makes no moves to have a conversation with Clarke. She sits quietly on her side of the elevator and stares intensely at the doors, as if trying to open them with pure will.

Clarke, however, easily becomes bored. With no service and no wifi, she becomes increasingly unnerved by Lexa’s silence.

Clearing her throat, Clarke asks, “Lexa, what kind of music do you listen to? Please don’t say country music.”

Lexa looks over, face devoid of much emotion. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m bored, and it’s quiet.” Clarke shrugs. “I figured some music wouldn’t hurt.”

There’s a pause before Lexa answers. “I don’t listen to music very often. It’s very distracting.”

Clarke smiles. “Isn’t that what we need right now? A distraction?”

Lexa’s lips quirk upwards. Clarke finds that she likes drawing a smile out of her.

Softly, Lexa concedes. “Touché.” After a moment, she looks at Clarke. “I don’t typically listen to music with words though.”

Clarke looks up from where she has begun scrolling through the music on her phone. “No lyrics? None? That’s almost worse than country music. _Almost_.”

“They're distracting. And often sad.” Lexa looks away. “I have no need for either of these things.”

Even though Lexa is looking away and her voice is low, Clarke knows that there’s a sadness upon Lexa. One not brought on simply by the words in a song.

Trying to lighten the mood, Clarke scrolls through a few more songs in her playlist titled ‘@music, just fuck me up’ before settling on one of her favorites. “How about some Arctic Monkeys then?”

Lexa raises a brow. “Arctic Monkeys? That's an actual band name?”

Clarke rolls her eyes. “Yes. Don’t judge until you hear it.”

“I'll try not to.”

Clarke clicks on the song and hears the familiar start of ‘No. 1 Party Anthem.’ She closes her eyes and lets the initial sounds wash over her. She makes a quiet sound of approval before she hums quietly along.

Though she would never admit it, Lexa enjoys the song. She’s having trouble deciding whose low voice she likes better – the singer of the so called “Arctic Monkeys” or Clarke’s. (Subconsciously, she knows whose voice she likes better.)

When Clarke asks her opinion of the song, Lexa merely shrugs her shoulders. “I’ve heard worse.”

Clarke looks slightly affronted. “Are you kidding me? That song is fantastic. Words and all.”

Lexa merely raises an eyebrow, practically taunting Clarke.

And Clarke takes the bait. “Come on, Lexa! The start of that song is like sex!”

Lexa’s eyebrows climb higher. “Sex?” She questions with a tone of amusement.

Clarke smirks. “Yes, sex. An intimate act between two, or sometimes more, people. Feels great. Euphoric even—“

“I’m aware of how sex feels, Clarke.”

Now it’s Clarke’s turn to raise her eyebrows. Lexa doesn’t seem like the type to be close to anyone, let alone knowing someone enough to get in their pants, and she definitely doesn’t seem like a one night stand kind of girl.

Clarke clears her throat in the deafening silence. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to assume.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

After a moment of terse silence, Lexa decides to give Clarke a break. “Alright, the beginning of the song is pretty good.”

Clarke stifles a laugh behind her hand. “I know, right? You should listen to the rest of the album. It’s just as _euphoric_ as that song.”

“Arctic Monkeys is still a stupid band name,” Lexa says, not wanting to concede to Clarke yet again.

Clarke shrugs with a smile. “I can’t fight you on that, but they do make some badass music.”

Rolling her eyes at her, Lexa responds with a touch of amusement, “Sure, Clarke.”

**

“It’s getting hot in here,” Lexa says, fanning her face.

“So take off all your clothes,” Clarke can’t help but to sing the lyrics back to Lexa.

At this, Lexa raises her eyebrows, and Clarke sighs.

“Come on, Lexa. The Nelly song everyone listened to in middle school.” At Lexa’s blank stare, she goes on. “’Hot in Herre?’”

Lexa shakes her head.

“Jesus, Lexa. You have got to expand your music palate.”

“Somehow, I feel like this song may not be the right match for me.”

Clarke looks Lexa up and down, taking in her attire and making Lexa feel very exposed. “Touché.”

After Clarke’s eyes finish roaming Lexa’s body, Lexa feels a little bold. She’s hot and wearing too many layers to be comfortable in the heat of the elevator. Shucking off her blazer feels fucking fantastic, so she moves to the cuffs of her button down and rolls the sleeves up to her elbows. Going one step further, she unbuttons the top two buttons of her shirt as well.

Clarke nearly dies.

Not that Lexa’s actions were overtly sexual or anything, but Clarke is a goddamn sucker when it comes to rolled up sleeves of button downs. She starts to feel hot as well, but not necessarily from the elevator’s lack of air conditioning.

Clarke shifts off of the elevator wall, catching Lexa’s attention. Lexa’s eyes go wide when she sees Clarke reach for the hem of her t-shirt.

“Don’t worry,” Clarke says with a smirk. “I’ve got something on underneath. I’m not going to strip naked in this elevator.” After a thought, she adds, “Not without some alcohol and money being involved.”

Without pause, Lexa says, “Unfortunately, I only have one of those things on me.”

Surprised at Lexa’s ability to flirt, Clarke keeps up the banter as she starts to untie her shoes. “Please tell me it’s alcohol. I would love nothing more than being plastered in this hot box of death.”

“Sorry.” Lexa gives Clarke a small smile. “I can’t fulfill that dream of yours.”

 _Maybe she can’t fulfill that dream_ , Clarke thinks as she looks into Lexa’s playful eyes and pulls her shirt over her head, _but she might be able to fulfill some of her fantasies._

**

“Lexa, I’m bored again.”

Lexa shakes her head slightly. “I don't think I can help you there, Clarke.”

“Sure you can.” Clarke turns to face Lexa more fully. “Play a game with me.”

“A game?”

“Yeah.” Clarke pauses as she racks her brain for something she thinks Lexa will agree to. “How about a version of 20 questions?” At Lexa’s raised eyebrow, she starts to elaborate. “Like, we go back and forth and ask questions about the other. For example, I might ask you what your favorite color is and you would say…?”

“Green.” Lexa says this instinctively, but she thinks that if someone asked her the question again after just a few more hours in this elevator, she might say blue.

“And now you get to ask me any question you want.”

Lexa searches her brain, trying to find a question to ask Clarke. She finds that there are a lot of questions that she wants to ask, but she settles for something simple. “What’s your major?”

“Biology with a Pre-Med intent,” Clarke answers quickly. “What’s yours?”

“International affairs.”

“Why international affairs?” Clarke sounds truly curious, and even though Clarke has asked this question out of turn, Lexa’s heart flutters.

Lexa gets asking this question a lot, yet she still doesn’t quite know what to say. She doesn’t want to say something about world peace for fear of sounding like a pageant girl. She settles for a simple answer. “Because the world could use a little bit more peace.”

Clarke makes a small noise of agreement and indicates that it’s Lexa’s turn to ask a question.

Since the girls don’t really know each other, Lexa tries to think of questions that aren’t too prying. She doesn’t want to offend Clarke when they’re stuck in such a contained space together. “What’s your favorite time of day?”

“Hm,” Clarke thinks for just a moment before answering. “The morning. Right after the sun rises. When there’s still dew on the flowers and all the birds are still waking up.”

Lexa can understand the want for a calm and quiet world.

“Where is your favorite place to be?”

The question hurts Lexa more than Clarke could have ever expected. Many of Lexa’s favorite places are tinged with sadness now. Because Lexa’s favorite person in the whole world isn’t there to share them with her anymore. So instead of giving Clarke the long answer, she goes with, “I don't really have a favorite place. Not anymore.”

Clarke can tell that there’s more behind Lexa’s answer than she’s giving, but she lets it slide, knowing that sharing something intimate with someone who is practically a stranger probably isn’t appealing to most people. To bring the mood up, Clarke puts on a cheeky smile. “What? This elevator isn’t your favorite place? Come on, you can admit it. You don’t mind being on this elevator because I’m here to keep you entertained.”

Lexa graces Clarke with one of her small smiles as she looks away. She makes no move to deny the claims.

**

“Hey, Lexa.”

“Yes, Clarke?”

“Say hi to Octavia for me,” Clarke says, pointing her phone’s camera toward where Lexa sits, still perched on Clarke’s sweatshirt.

“Who is Octavia? And why am I greeting her?

Clarke turns her phone camera back to her face. She talks to her phone as she responds to Lexa. “Octavia is my best friend in the entire world. She is a goddess who walks among mortals and she deserves a better friend than me.” She glances at Lexa to finish explaining. “Octavia and her boyfriend are the ones who I was supposed to help paint today, but here I am. So, I am taking this lovely video for a lovely Octavia so she can’t say I’m lying. Because she won’t believe me when I tell her I didn’t come because I was stuck in an elevator all day. I have to have the receipts for her, you know?”

Lexa doesn’t really know, but she nods nevertheless. “Hello, Octavia. I can vouch for Clarke.” A sigh. “We are very stuck in this elevator.”

“How long have we been here, Lexa?”

Looking at her watch, Lexa replies with, “3 hours, 24 minutes, and still counting.”

“Sorry, Octavia. Looks like you’re going to have to keep painting without me. I’ll see you when we get out of this hell.” Clarke smiles and waves to the camera, though her eyes scream for help. Lexa knows that she and Clarke are on the same page. They both want to get the fuck out of this damn elevator.

**

“Holy shit!”

Lexa startles at Clarke’s exclamation and looks over at her to see why she tried to give Lexa a heart attack.

“Lexa, I have service. A single bar!” Clarke looks excited at her prospects for a second before her face gathers into a frown. “Shit.”

“What is it?”

“I got some messages from Octavia.” Clarke swallows deeply as her phone continues to vibrate with the incoming messages.

“How many?”

“32 so far.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, safe to say that I’m fucked,” Clarke says as she starts to tap her phone’s screen, probably issuing out a few ‘sorry’ texts to her friend.

Lexa checks her own phone to see if she has service. She isn’t as lucky as Clarke, seeing as she still has zero bars.

“I just sent her the video. Hopefully she believes it.”

Clarke’s phone vibrates again. “She doesn’t.”

“How can you convince her?”

“I’m asking her.” A pause as her phone vibrates again. “Fuck. Okay.”

Clarke reaches around in her bag, finally pulling out a pencil and a large book. As she flips through it to find a blank page, Lexa can see that most of the pages are filled with beautifully done sketches. Lexa almost feels guilty because a sketchbook seems like very intimate thing to look at without permission, like looking through the pictures on someone’s phone without asking. Lexa looks away as Clarke rips out a page and starts to scribble on it in a loopy script.

Clarke’s phone buzzes again. She sighs as she reads the new message. “Goddamn you, Octavia.” Clarke swears quietly and writes one last thing before looking up at Lexa with desperate eyes. “Please don’t judge me for this.”

“I can't judge someone for trying to placate an angry best friend.”

“You might after you see this.” Clarke looks away for a second, then she starts with, “Look, she wants me to take a selfie with you, and I have to hold up this fucking sign.”

“Okay, what's wrong with that?”

Clarke doesn’t answer; she just hands sign over to Lexa wordlessly.

The sign reads: “I truly am stuck in this elevator and am actively fucking over my best friend. I am pleading for Octavia’s forgiveness, even though I am a lowly pleb who is beneath her.” Then in smaller writing below, it reads: “Also, the girl I’m stuck with is ridiculously hot. Like, damn. She’s fine. *insert many fire emojis*”

Lexa blushes bright red. She looks away from the sign and nods, understanding Clarke’s embarrassment now.

“Sorry about this.” Clarke sighs to the ceiling.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Clarke scoots in closer to Lexa and holds up the sign like a kicked puppy. Lexa raises an eyebrow at Clarke with a small smirk, wondering how someone can look so cute with a pouty face when Clarke snaps the picture.

“It’s actually a nice picture. Of you anyways,” Clarke says after she looks at the picture and sends it quickly to Octavia. She passes her phone to Lexa so she can see it.

It’s a very good picture, she soon sees. Somehow, Clarke has managed to make herself look completely adorable, with her pouty lips and sad eyes, as she holds the ludicrous sign. Looking at herself in the photo, she sees a smile on her lips as she looks over at pouting Clarke. She isn’t looking at the camera, but it doesn’t matter. In the picture she looks both embarrassed and flattered by what’s written on the sign.

“I can send it to you if you want.”

Lexa is pulled out of her thoughts by Clarke’s words. She raises her eyebrows at Clarke.

“You know,” Clarke starts, “That way you too can have proof that you spent the better part of a day trapped in an elevator with a ridiculously hot girl who deserves many fire emojis.”

“After how long we have been trapped, my mind is a little fried. I might need the picture to prove to myself that today actually did happen and that it was not all in my head.”

Clarke hands her phone over to Lexa so she can put her number in and Lexa does the same for Clarke after a moment of hesitation.

She is typing her name into Clarke’s phone when she makes a decision that she might regret later. When she’s done, she hands the phone back to Clarke and gets hers in return.

She hears Clarke laugh heartily as she takes in what Lexa has typed – her name surrounded by many fire emojis. She supposes that she can’t regret her actions after getting such a beautiful laugh out of the blonde woman.

Lexa can’t help but to let out a laugh of her own when she sees the information that Clarke has inputted.

“Clarke Griffin of apartment 16A”

Surrounded by fire emojis.

**

“Hour number five trapped in this fucking elevator,” Clarke says into her imaginary microphone. “Not the most pleasurable of experiences, I’ve got to tell you, folks. 2 out of 10. Do not recommend.”

Though Lexa doesn’t want to play into Clarke’s antics, her curiosity gets the better of her. With an eyebrow raised, she asks, “2 out of 10? You give this a somewhat positive rating? How?”

Clarke gives a sly grin, “The company isn’t half-bad.” Lexa’s heart stops at both the words and the confidence behind them.

Lexa looks away from Clarke with a small smile as she continues on, bringing her imaginary microphone back to her lips.

“Speaking of good company, folks, here’s my unlucky companion in this shithole, Lexa Woods of apartment 14C.” Looking in Lexa’s eyes, Clarke asks, “How has being stuck in this box been, Ms. Woods?”

Lexa stares back into Clarke’s eyes before answering, sinking into the blue depths. “Hot,” she settles on with a slight shrug.

“You heard it here first, my friends. This motherfucking box is hot--,” Clarke says, her hand starting to drift away from her mouth and her eyes falling from Lexa’s face as Lexa begins to undo more buttons on her shirt. She slides the shirt off her shoulders with a quick shrug, folding it up and straightening the tank top she was wearing underneath.

“It’s not as bad with you here.” Lexa says quietly. She doesn’t mean for it to escape her mind, but now that it’s out, she looks for Clarke’s reaction.

Clarke is unabashedly staring at the newly exposed parts of Lexa’s body, enjoying the toned muscles and beautifully done tattoos she finds there. Clarke is a fucking sucker for tattoos. It seems like Lexa has it all. She itches to draw those tattoos right now, but she’s worried that Lexa wouldn’t appreciate her staring at her body for an extended period of time.

Lexa looks up at Clarke and can’t help but to be excited at the look of attraction she sees in her eyes.

**

There is a knock on the elevator’s doors. Lexa, who has long since taken off her heels, rushes up to the doors. Clarke scrambles up behind her.

“Did somebody call for a mechanic?” An unfamiliar voice calls to them from the outside.

“Yes!” Clarke and Lexa exclaim together, both ready to get out their cramped cell.

“Awesome. Well, Raven Reyes at your service.”

Clarke smiles at the doors. “Raven Reyes, if you can get us out of this fucking elevator, I will kiss you.”

There’s a quiet chuckle from Raven as she tinkers with the doors. “Damn, someone is desperate.”

“You have no clue,” Lexa can’t help but chime in.

Raven grunts, struggling with a particularly tight bolt. “How long have you guys been in there?”

Clarke looks to Lexa, knowing that the other girl has been keeping track of the time. Looking at her watch, Lexa says, “Six hours, 46 minutes.”

“Have you guys fucked yet?”

Neither of them were expecting that. Clarke blushes, while Lexa’s mouth opens and shuts as she tries to formulate an answer to such a crass question. She seems to have forgotten the entirety of the English language in two seconds.

“What?” Finally, the question tumbles from Lexa’s lips.

“Hey, I wouldn’t blame you guys. Over six hours trapped in a contained area? Who wouldn’t do it?” A pause. “I mean, unless you guys are super straight or something.”

“I’m not.” Both Lexa and Clarke say this quietly, as if to themselves. As they both realize what the other has said, the tension is palpable in the air. Clarke stares into Lexa’s eyes, looking for a trace of a joke there. But Lexa isn’t joking. And neither is Clarke.

“Then why the hell are you two just standing around?” Raven chooses now to interject. “I can leave for a minute if you guys need a quickie.”

“No!” They both yell at the doors.

Softer, Clarke begs, “Please stay. Get these doors open for us, Raven.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As Raven gets back to work, the two women reclaim their seats on the floor. After a few more minutes of Raven's tinkering, the doors spring open.

This time, Clarke is the first one up. She’s out of the elevator before Lexa even stands. She sees Clarke lying face down on the floor of the elevator lobby, as if she was trying to hug it.

“Fuck yes.” Clarke sighs into the carpet. “An open space has never felt this delicious.”

Raven smiles at Clarke as she packs up her tools. With a joking glint in her eyes, she says, “Are you the one who promised me a kiss?”

Clarke looks up at her. “Oh, yeah, right. Sorry.” She pops up off the floor and casually walks up to Raven, grabbing her by the cheeks and looking dead into her eyes. “Thank you very much, Raven Reyes.” Then she pecks a quick kiss to Raven’s cheek and smiles widely. Raven looks a little surprised that Clarke actually fulfilled her vow, but hides it quickly under a confident face.

Watching Clarke kiss the mechanic makes Lexa irrationally upset. Lexa wanted to believe that Clarke had been flirting with her for the past six or so hours. But maybe she wasn’t. Maybe Clarke was into the knight in shining tool belt type instead of the fucked up, closed off type. Lexa couldn’t blame her.

Clarke looks at Raven. “How do drinks sound right now? I definitely owe you one.” Quietly, she adds, “And Octavia and Lincoln.”

Raven smiles. “This was my last job of the day. I’m down.”

Clarke turns to Lexa, “How about you, Lexa?”

Lexa is too busy staring daggers at the ground in the general direction of Raven’s feet that she misses the hopeful look in Clarke’s eye and smile on her face. In this moment, Lexa wishes that she could be as confident as Raven, cashing in kisses from Clarke, but she knows that she doesn’t compare to the tanned brunette who’s obviously good with her hands and has a gorgeous smile.

Which is why she responds with, “Sorry, I can’t. I have to go make some phone calls regarding where I’ve been this afternoon.”

Since she still isn’t looking at Clarke, she misses the disappointment that is clearly etched all over her face.

Lexa walks away without looking back.

Clarke almost wishes that they were still stuck in the elevator together.


	2. There's a Storm You're Starting Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smiling back, Clarke says, “You were a stargazer?”
> 
> “Some nights,” Lexa starts, thinking about how she can see the constellations played out in Clarke’s eyes, how she could get lost gazing into those bright, blue eyes. “I still am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of this chapter comes from Halsey's 'Hurricane.'
> 
> As always, you can follow me, ask me questions, and give me feedback at: theprettiestbroom.tumblr.com

Lexa throws open her front door. “Professor Trauger said that we could make up the presentation on Wednesday, right?”

“Hello to you too, Lex.” Anya slides past Lexa, aiming for the spacious couch. Gustus pads over to her, his nails clacking on the hardwood floor. The big dog jumps up into the spot next to Anya and slips his head into her lap, sniffing and licking her hands. “Even your dog has better manners than you do.”

“Sorry, but I’ve just been worried, you know?” Lexa moves to sit at the other end of the couch, and pulls her knees up to her chest as she says, “I didn’t mean to fuck you over. I mean, I didn’t really have a choice in the matter, but I still feel bad about it.”

Anya chuckles as she looks over at Lexa, who seems to be begging for her forgiveness in her eyes. “Obviously if anyone was given the choice, they would choose to not be stuck in an elevator instead of at their very important presentation that is worth a third of their grade.” Leaning over Gustus and throwing a soft punch to Lexa’s thigh, she says, “We’re good, Lex. It wasn’t your fault.”

Lexa lets out a deep breath that she had been holding in. “Thank you.”

“You have to tell me more about that day though.”

Lexa sighs at the happy look on Anya’s face. “Fine. I got stuck on an elevator for almost seven hours.”

“What the hell do you even do on an elevator for seven hours?” Anya laughs at Lexa’s misfortune. Gustus lifts his head away from her bouncing stomach. She scratches his head softly until he lays back down.

“I don’t know.” Lexa pauses. “We talked, I guess.”

Raising her eyebrows, Anya asks, “You talked to a complete stranger? For seven hours? About what?”

“Lots of stuff, Anya. Music, our majors, people. Nothing special.”

Anya pulls a sly grin. “Was she cute?”

Again, Lexa sighs. She knows that she can’t lie to Anya; she’ll just end up making her admit it later anyways. “Yes.”

Laughing even more, Anya asks, “What was she like? Your usual type?”

Lexa frowns. “I don’t have a type.”

“Yes, you do.” Anya looks at her with an eyebrow cocked. “Straight girls.”

Lexa rolls hers eyes. “That was one time,” she says, scratching Gustus’ back.

“Lexa, it has happened at least three times.”

“Whatever.” Lexa glares at Anya. “I don’t think she’s straight. She basically said that she wasn’t. Plus, look at this.”

Lexa pulls out her phone and shows Anya the picture that they had taken together in the elevator. Anya raises her eyebrows at the picture.

“A blonde?”

“A cute blonde.”

“A very cute blonde.” Anya looks over at Lexa with her eyebrows raised. “And you turned her down when she asked if you wanted to get drinks with her?”

“She had just kissed the mechanic! What was I supposed to think?”

“That she had just spent seven hours flirting with you in a metal death trap. That she was interested in you. And you’re obviously interested in her if you’re whining to me about her and it’s been four days since you’ve seen her.”

Lexa shrugs a shoulder at Anya. Maybe she was right. Maybe Clarke had been interested in her.

But Lexa had turned her down, and it was too late to fix it now.

**

Lexa ties her running shoes on and throws her hair into a braid, preparing for her daily run. Gustus is hot on her heels, wanting to go with her. After patting his head and telling him that she’ll walk him later, she searches for her earbuds, untangling the mess as she walks out the door. She pops them into her ears as she waits for the elevator. Surprisingly, she still takes it after the incident of last week.

She hears the opening lyrics of the song as the elevator doors slide open. Not looking up from fiddling with her phone, she walks into the elevator.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Lexa hears around her music. Pulling out one earbud, she looks up.

Her eyes meet familiar blue ones as she takes in the woman before her.

“Oh,” Lexa starts. “Hi.”

Clarke gives a small laugh, “Hey. Still taking the elevator even after what happened?”

Lexa bites her lip and looks away. “I’m allowed to be lazy before a five mile run.”

With a small noise of agreement and a smile in her eyes, Clarke takes in Lexa’s form, liking the way her body looks in the tight athletic clothing.

“What’re you listening to?” Clarke gestures toward Lexa’s earbuds.

“Um,” Lexa hesitates, not meeting Clarke’s eyes. “You know, just some band.”

“A band?” Clarke asks. “One that has music with lyrics?”

“Maybe.”

“Who is it?”

“No one that you would know.”

Clarke smirks. “Oh, please. I’m like the queen of obscure bands.”

“I guess I wouldn't know.”

Clarke steps closer. “No, you wouldn’t, would you?” Her hand reaches for Lexa’s, keeping eye contact as she says, “Maybe you would if you hadn’t blown me off last week.”

“I didn’t blow you—” Lexa starts, but Clarke is quickly turning Lexa’s hand over, pressing the home button on the phone that rests in her palm and illuminating the screen, showing both Lexa and Clarke the truth. The truth happens to be in the form of a band with a very dumb name but very good songs.

As Clarke fakes a gasp at Lexa and widens her eyes, the elevator slows to accept another person inside. To allow them some space, Clarke steps even closer to the corner that Lexa had settled herself in.

Quieter than before, Clarke says, “I fucking knew it!” Clarke smiles as she points to Lexa. “You’re a liar!”

Lexa groans as she runs a hand over her face. “It’s not that big of a deal, Clarke.”

“Oh, it is.” Her smile stretches out across her face. “You’re listening to the Arctic Monkeys’ album after making fun of them and doubting me when I said that their music is good. And then, to make matters even worse, you tried to lie about it.”

The elevator finally reaches the lobby. The door dings open, and as Lexa walks through it with Clarke trailing behind her, she shakes her head.

Before they part ways, Clarke says, “I’m going to work on my repayment to Octavia and Lincoln today, but if you’re free tomorrow night, there’s a party at their apartment you’re totally welcome to come to. It’s kind of like a house warming party”

Lexa looks away as she contemplates the proposal. She really isn’t the party type; she hasn’t been to one in years, but she does not find the idea of spending more time with Clarke despicable.

“Okay,” Lexa says. “I’ll come.”

A look of surprise registers on Clarke’s face before she covers it quickly. “Alright. I’ll send you the details.” She smiles at Lexa. “I already have your number.”

“Do I bring them a housewarming plant?”

Clarke laughs, “Hell no. Octavia would kill it in two days. Just bring yourself. And anybody else you want to bring. The more the merrier.”

“Alright, see you then,” Lexa says with a wave as she heads in the other direction.

Her phone vibrates before she’s made it ten steps. She looks at the message.

 

 **10:03 AM** ****  
**Clarke Griffin of apartment 16A**  
If you need more music recommendations for your runs, you should check out my girl Halsey. She’s indie pop if you’re into that sort of thing.

 

Lexa pauses and turns around. Clarke is less than twenty feet away with her phone in her hands, looking over her shoulder at Lexa. Clarke sends a wink and a grin her way before continuing to walk away from Lexa.

Grinning to herself as she walks to Octavia and Lincoln’s apartment, Clarke thinks to herself _: At least this time when she left, I got her to look back at me._

**

Clarke is pacing around the party restlessly. She can’t stop moving.

“Clarke, please stop pacing. It’s throwing everyone off.” Octavia looks over at Lincoln, begging him to help with her eyes. He shrugs and walks off to get another drink.

“I can’t, O.” She keeps walking throughout the living room. “I gave her all the information yesterday. I texted her. She responded to me!” Clarke looks over with desperation in her eyes. “Octavia, I told her to be here at 9:30. It’s 10!”

“It’s only been 30 minutes, Clarke.” Octavia throws up her hands. “Everyone knows that you can’t show up to a party right on time.”

“But what if she doesn’t come at all?”

“Then you can harass her the next time you see her in the elevator. Just like last time.”

Clarke frowns. “I didn’t harass her into coming, did I?”

Rolling her eyes, Octavia grabs Clarke’s hand and pull her down next to her on the couch. “No, babe. You didn’t. You asked her to a party, and she said she’d come. So she’ll be here. Eventually.”

“Okay,” Clarke sighs into Octavia’s shoulder, closing her eyes and trying to relax into the party. “I can wait for her. Patiently.”

She hears cheers coming from the shot table in the corner and she thinks that it probably means that Monty brought some of his infamous moonshine. She stands up to go get a shot of it before it disappears, determined to keep Lexa off her mind, at least for a few minutes.

**

Lexa walks into the apartment, instantly feeling out of place. There are people everywhere drinking, being loud, and dancing to the music that’s pumping throughout the place.

She stands near the door with Anya, who was coerced into joining Lexa at the party, because Lexa knew no one here and that thought made her super uncomfortable. Well, she knew Clarke, but she is nowhere to be seen in the mass of bodies in the living room. Looking for blonde hair in the dim lights should be easy, but Lexa is having trouble seeing anything because all of the people keep shifting around and blocking her view of the rest of the room.

Lexa contemplates leaving because she feels awkward as hell and doesn’t want to look like a lost puppy anymore. She’ll text Clarke tomorrow, saying that something had come up that had prevented her from making it to the party.

“I’m leaving.”

Anya snaps her head around. “What? Lexa, we just walked through the door thirty seconds ago. You can’t leave without at least talking to the cute blonde girl at least once.”

“Clarke.” Lexa won’t look at Anya. “Her name is Clarke.”

“Okay,” Anya says slowly, “Clarke, then. You should find Clarke.”

“No, this was stupid. There are tons of people here that I’m sure she would rather be around. I’m just going to go.”

Just as she’s turning around to leave, someone taps her on the arm. Turning back to look, she sees a man with a dark mop of messy curls smiling at her.

“You guys leaving already?” He smiles again and gestures toward a table in the corner. “You haven’t even tried Monty’s moonshine yet.” He laughs, “That shit will fuck you up really fast. It’s basically rubbing alcohol.”

Anya responds with a small smirk, looking the man up and down, “Oh, really? Maybe I should try some then.”

The man grins at her. “Definitely.” He holds his hand out to her. “Bellamy, by the way.”

“Anya.” She grabs his hand. “And the flight risk over here is Lexa.”

“You guys haven’t been around before, have you?”

“No, we’re new around here.” Anya gestures towards Lexa, “She got us an invite because she was in a predicament with a blondie. Clarke was her name.”

“Oh!” Bellamy looks over at Lexa with wide eyes. “Of course! You’re trapped-in-elevator-for-seven-hours Lexa!”

“Unfortunately.”

“Clarke told us all about it. It sounded pretty rough, but I’m glad you made it out.”

Lexa can’t help the small smile that climbs her way onto her face. “Yeah, I’m still having war flashbacks.”

Bellamy laughs and clasps her shoulder. “The quiet, yet witty type. I like that. You’ll fit in here just fine.” He smiles widely, “Let’s get our warrior here a drink.”

Surprisingly, Bellamy’s words made Lexa feel warm. Accepted. She knows that she just met him, but he already has his arm slung over her shoulders as they walk to the drink table. He’s pushing his way through the bodies for her, declaring, “The warrior’s throat is dry, and she’s still able to walk straight. Someone get her a shot of Monty’s good stuff!”

Bellamy, with one arm still around Lexa, holds out an empty shot glass to be filled. He hands the first shot to her, the second to Anya, and keeps the third for himself.

“To unreliable machinery and new friends!” Bellamy yells, holding his shot up, and the crowd around the table cheers as the three of them down their shots.

“Fucking hell!” Lexa can’t help the words that spring from her mouth after swallowing. Holding her hand to her mouth, she says to Bellamy, “Someone intentionally made that shit?”

He laughs full bellied at her. Bellamy laughs so hard that he’s unable to speak, so he just nods to her.

“Did someone say unreliable machinery?” Raven pops up next to Lexa. “Because I can take a look really quickly if you need me to.”

“No, Raven. We’re all good over here.” Bellamy smiles at Raven and Lexa. “I’m sure you two have already met and don’t need to be introduced.”

“Me and Lexa go way back.” Raven smiles widely at Lexa, cuffing her on the shoulder. “I saved her life once.”

Rolling her eyes, Lexa says, “I think you’re being a little dramatic.”

Raven shrugs one shoulder. “Maybe, maybe not.”

Bellamy smiles and squeezes Lexa’s shoulder. “You’ll definitely fit in here.”

**

After taking another shot (at Bellamy’s insistence), Lexa slides out from underneath his brotherly arm to take a walk around the party.

She skirts around the edge of the dance floor, not wanting anything to do with those gyrating, sweaty bodies. As she moves around the room, she tries to convince herself that she isn’t looking for Clarke. Lexa can survive this party without her.

Lexa ends up stopping near a hallway, wondering if there is a bathroom down there. She’s sure that she’ll need to use it later if she continues her rate of consumption.

A splash of color down the hallway catches her eye. Without thinking, Lexa’s feet carry her further down the hallway.

She’s surprised by what she sees. The hallway walls are covered in murals. There are bright purple flowers and blue butterflies surrounded by trees. Trees are everywhere. In the cover of the trees, she sees a deer. The forest has so many details; Lexa is sure that she would need hours to find them.

It’s absolutely stunning.

**

Clarke stumbles out of the bathroom gracefully. Running her hands through her hair, she heads back to the living room. She pulls her phone from her pockets, checking for the hundredth time if she had any missed texts. Specifically from Lexa. She doesn’t.

She tries not to be sad that Lexa didn’t show up as she rounds the corner. And there she is. Lexa.

Right in the hallway. Staring at Clarke’s artwork like it’s the best thing she’s ever seen.

And Clarke swears, this woman is trying to kill her with her outfits. She’s got a black leather jacket on over a loose heather gray sleeveless top with the arm holes ripped down to show off her black bandeau and tanned waist. In addition to the jacket, Lexa wears ripped up black skinny jeans and her wild hair has small braids throughout it. Clarke thinks that the only thing better than dressed up, business Lexa is causal punk Lexa.

As she soaks in more of the sight of the beautiful girl, Clarke leans against the threshold behind her. “That’s my atonement.”

Lexa startles slightly as she looks over at Clarke. “You did this?” Her eyebrows raise. “I thought you were a biology student.”

Happy that Lexa remembers something about her, Clarke smiles to herself. “I am. That doesn’t mean that I can’t like to draw as well.”

With a quirk in her lips, Lexa says, “I suppose you’re right.” Turning back to look at the mural, Lexa smiles, “It really is striking work. I love it. The trees look so alive.” Lexa reaches her hand out, as if to touch them.

Catching Lexa’s hand in hers before she touches the wall, Clarke whispers, “Careful.” Blue eyes meet green. “I only finished yesterday. Wouldn’t want your hand to be covered in almost dry paint.”

Lexa looks away, embarrassed. She runs the offending hand over her hair. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me. I just wasn’t thinking.”

Smiling softly, Clarke says, “Don’t worry about it.”

“What did you mean when you said that it was your atonement?”

“I painted this for them as repayment for screwing them over when we were stuck in the elevator.”

“This is one hell of an apology.”

“It’s what they asked for. Lincoln says that it reminds him of home.”

“Me too.” Lexa looks over at Clarke with a small smile. “There were woods behind my parents’ house and I would go lay out on some rocks at night in the summer and look up at the stars, wondering what was up there.”

Smiling back, Clarke says, “You were a stargazer?”

“Some nights,” Lexa starts, thinking about how she can see the constellations played out in Clarke’s eyes, how she could get lost gazing into those bright, blue eyes. “I still am.”

**

Clarke had left for the bathroom almost an hour ago, and Octavia hadn’t seen her since. Since Octavia was drunk as fuck, her brain thought that it was a good idea to go looking for her. She pushed her way through the mob of dancers, not seeing the blonde she was looking for, so she went to the drink table.

“Bell!” She yells loudly to be heard over the music. “Have you seen Clarke?”

Even though he’s busy taking to Raven and Anya, he leans over to talk into Octavia’s ear. “Not since the beginning of the party. Why?”

“She went to the bathroom and never came back!”

Bellamy grins at his little sister. “Then she probably found her cute elevator girl and is sealing the deal.”

“Lexa is here?” Octavia is excited at the prospect. She wants to meet this girl that Clarke has been so worked up over.

“Yeah, I caught her trying to leave early, but I convinced her to stay.”

“Good. Clarke would be devastated if she knew that Lexa showed up and then left without seeing her.”

“They’ve got to be around here somewhere.”

“I’m gonna go find them and play matchmaker if I need to,” Octavia replies as she throws back another shot. She might as well, while she’s over by the drinks and there’s still moonshine left.

“Don’t fuck anything up, O!” Bellamy yells at his sister’s back as she walks away.

She looks over her shoulder with a wide smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it, big brother.”

Octavia decides to head to the last place she knew Clarke had been – the bathroom. She stumbles her way to the hallway, easily moving through the masses of people.

Standing at the opening of the hallway, she sees Clarke with a familiar face, Lexa. They’re standing close together with Clarke leaning against a door jamb as Lexa gestures towards the wall. Whatever Lexa says makes Clarke laugh pretty hard because she leans forward and grasps Lexa’s arm, as if to keep herself upright.

Octavia attempts to strut over to Clarke, but with how drunk she is, it comes across as more of a wobble.

“Hey, babe,” she says, planting a kiss on Clarke’s cheek as she wraps her arms around her neck. “Hey, elevator cutie,” she says to Lexa. Octavia leans in to whisper into Clarke’s ear, “She’s way cuter in person. Good job.”

Her whisper came out louder than intended. Lexa blushes at the complement and looks down at her shoes as she crosses her arms across her chest.

With a little laugh at Lexa’s adorably pink cheeks, Clarke grabs at Octavia’s waist. “Octavia, how much have you hand to drink tonight?”

“I think my body is 30% alcohol at this point.”

“That’s really safe of you.”

"It could be worse. I could be 70% alcohol.” Octavia is slurring her words and bearing most of her weight on Clarke.

“Maybe you should go to bed, huh?”

“Come tuck me in, Clarke.” Octavia smiles into Clarke’s neck.

“Just like old times.” Looking over at Lexa, Clarke gives her a small smile. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Lexa leans against the threshold as she waits for Clarke to come back, careful not to lean against the wall paint. Even though she knows that Octavia is with Lincoln, she can’t help but to be unnerved by the affection she showed to Clarke. When she saw Octavia kiss Clarke’s cheek, her chest tightened up, like her lungs were refusing to expand. It wasn’t necessarily jealousy, but desire. She had a desire to have a friend whose cheek she could kiss casually. Or maybe it was Clarke’s cheek, specifically. She could admit that she wanted to kiss Clarke’s cheek. In a totally platonic, friend way.

**

Octavia can’t hold herself up anymore. She gives up trying and just leans into Clarke’s side, moving her legs as needed.

“Hey, Clarke,” Octavia whispers as Clarke opens the door for the both of them.

“Yeah, O?”

“I think you like Lexa a little bit. You do the arm grabbing thing that you did with Finn in the beginning.”

Clarke tenses up at the mention of her ex-boyfriend. “Yeah,” she says as she lays Octavia down on her bed. She draws in a shaky breath. “I think I like her a little bit too.”

“It’s okay to like someone again, Clarke.”

Closing her eyes and looking away as she pulls the blanket around her drunk friend, she says, “Go to sleep, Octavia.”

**

Clarke walks out of what Lexa assumes is Octavia’s room and quietly shuts the door. As she walks over to Lexa, she says, “Sorry. Octavia is a hot mess when she gets hammered.”

“It’s alright. You don’t have to apologize for taking care of your friends.”

Clarke just smiles as she and Lexa walk over to a couch and sit down.

“So,” Lexa starts, not able to look in Clarke’s eyes, “Did you and Octavia date or something?”

Laughter is Clarke’s first response. She laughs so hard she reaches out for Lexa’s arm again. As soon as she can breathe again, she forces out, “No, no.” Looking into Lexa’s eyes, she says, “Never. Octavia is my best friend, and I’ve known her for years. She’s just a very touchy-feely person. Her brother, Bellamy, is too. It must be a Blake family thing.”

“I met him tonight. He did touch me.”

Clarke raises an eyebrow at Lexa silently until she realizes her mistake.

“Oh, shit, no. Not in a creepy way, just like, a friendly, welcoming way.”

Hearing the slight worry in Lexa’s voice makes Clarke laugh, yet again grasping her arm.

Lexa likes that laugh. She likes being the cause of it. And when Clarke stops laughing and removes her hand from Lexa’s arm, Lexa misses the contact.

Lexa doesn’t think of herself as funny or silly, but for Clarke’s laughter in her ear and hand on her arm, she’s willing to try.

**

Raven and Bellamy are basically having a pissing contest. They have been for the past hour.

And Anya definitely doesn’t mind all the attention she’s getting.

Raven is telling Anya about how she passed some mechanic test with a perfect score – the first time that has ever been done apparently.

Bellamy mentions to Anya that he’s the youngest history professor that the university has ever had.

Both are battling for Anya’s attention, and it’s the funniest thing that’s happened to her in a while. Typically people find her unapproachable, so she has to be the one to approach them. But not today. Today she’s got two people competing for her, and she’s not sure if she wants to pick between the two.

Luckily, she doesn’t have to pick. One of them taps out.

“Alright, guys. I’ve got a 9 am meeting tomorrow that I can’t be too hungover for. I have to go sleep off this alcohol,” Bellamy says, standing up from the table they had all settled down at.

Kissing both women on the cheek, he takes his leave with a smile and wave.

As soon as he’s out of ear shot, Raven looks at Anya with a smile reminiscent of the Cheshire cat. “And then there were two.”

**

Lexa’s phone vibrates in her pocket. She pulls it out to see that she has an unread text message from Anya.

 

 **1:27 AM** ****  
**Anya Pierce**  
Going home with Reyes.  
Don’t worry about me tonight.  
Go get your very cute blonde.

 

She can’t help the choked laugh that comes out of her mouth. Of course Anya found someone to go home with. Anya was going to stay at Lexa’s tonight, so neither of them had to walk home alone. Now Lexa has to walk back to her apartment by herself – all thanks to that damn mechanic.

“What’s so funny?” Clarke says, her chin propped up by her hands as she stares at Lexa.

“Anya, the friend I brought here tonight, promised to walk home with me, you know, to be safe. But now she’s going home with Raven.”

“So your buddy system was compromised? All because your friend wanted to get laid by a handsy mechanic?”

“Unfortunately.”

There’s a sly grin on her face, Clarke leans toward Lexa says, “While I can’t blame your friend Anya, I can help you out.” She smiles even wider. “Luckily, you happen to know someone who lives in the same building as you and also has to go home tonight.”

“Are you offering to walk me home, Clarke?”

“Only if you promise to protect me. The night is dark and full of terrors, Lexa.”

“I’m only walking you home because that was a fantastic Game of Thrones reference.”

“Then we have a deal.”

“Let’s go.”

**

“Do you have a favorite constellation?” Clarke is the first to break the silence.

Lexa smiles up the sky. “Yes. The first one I ever learned about.” Looking back at Clarke, Lexa waits until the blonde raises an eyebrow to answer her. “The big dipper.”

Both eyebrows raise at this. “Out of all the constellations, you choose the most juvenile to like?”

“Of course. It meant a lot to me at the time.”

“Okay, I guess I can understand that.”

They walk for a few moments in a nice silence. Then Lexa notices Clarke wrapping her arms around herself in order to keep herself from shivering. Lexa slows her walk, shrugging out of her jacket.

“Here, wear this.” When Clarke hesitates, Lexa says, “I saw you shivering, Clarke. Just take it.” Clarke looks at Lexa’s bare shoulders and still hesitates. Lexa sighs, “I’ll be fine.”

Finally, Clarke relents. She slides her arms in with Lexa’s help. “How chivalrous,” Clarke says, repeating Lexa’s words from their first meeting.

Lexa rolls her eyes and keeps walking. The wind blows and Lexa can admit to herself that she’s a little cool without her jacket, but she isn’t going to say shit to Clarke about it.

Clarke likes Lexa without her jacket on. She can see her intricate arm tattoos better this close up. Knowing that she’ll itch to sketch them later, she takes a few moments to check out the tattoos for future reference. Her eyes slip lower, to the exposed skin of Lexa’s ribs and waist. The wind blows through Lexa’s shirt and Clarke swears she sees more inky shapes on Lexa’s back.

“You have back tattoos too?” The few drinks still left in Clarke’s system make her ask this without abandon.

Lexa doesn’t expect the question, so she balks at first. “Um. Yes?” She looks over at Clarke with thinly veiled confusion on her face. “Why do you ask?”

Clarke flushes red. “Oh, the wind blew and your shirt, it—I was looking—I just,” Clarke sighs, trying to beat down her embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have looked, or asked. That was super creepy. Sorry.”

Lexa feels a rush, knowing that Clarke has been looking at her body hard enough to spot her back tattoos. She feels her chest expand with a large breath. She smiles as she feels happiness invade her chest.

“Well, this is me,” Clarke says, catching Lexa’s attention. They had made it all the way to their building without Lexa noticing.

“I’m aware, Clarke. I also live here.”

“I’m aware, Lexa.”

They get into the elevator together, hitting the buttons to their respective floors. Clarke fidgets the whole ride to Lexa's floor. When the doors open on her floor, Lexa doesn’t want to leave yet. She hesitates for so long that that Clarke has to stick her arm out to hold the doors open. Finally, Lexa regretfully moves to leave the familiar space. She's always the one to leave first, it seems.

Quickly, Clarke stops her. "Wait!" She calls out as Lexa takes her second step away. "Your jacket," Clarke mumbles, motioning to the leather before quickly attempting to shuck it off her body.

Shaking her head, Lexa says, “No, it’s alright. I can get it back from you another time.”

Clarke raises her eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

“As long as you’re sure that there will be a next time.”

Clarke smiles at the nervousness in Lexa’s eyes. “Of course. I had a great time tonight.”

“Me t—” Lexa startles as the elevator alarm goes off, telling her that the doors are shutting whether she likes it or not. Her time is up. This is her only chance.

Leaning forward as the doors start to close between her and Clarke, she places a soft kiss on Clarke’s cheek. “Good night, Clarke,” she says quietly, sure that Clarke didn’t hear her over the elevator’s alarm.

Clarke smiles at the fully closed elevator doors with a pounding heart.

“Good night, Lexa.”

**

Lexa is coming back from her daily run when she sees it sitting outside of her door.

Pressing pause on her music (Halsey’s ‘Hurricane’), Lexa takes out her earbuds and turns in a circle. She doesn’t see anyone around who could have left this on her door step.

When she steps closer to the large rectangle wrapped in plain brown paper, she sees an envelope sitting next to it.

“What the fuck?” Lexa whispers to herself as she picks up the envelope. It has her name on it.

Inside she finds a folded up note written on with familiar loopy script:

 

To remind you of those summer nights.

-Clarke

 

Shaking her head, Lexa grabs the package and hauls it inside her apartment. She has to maneuver around an eager Gustus, who is excitedly sniffing at the package in her hands.

After she rips open the wrapping paper of the package, Lexa gasps and her eyes go wide.

She has to go find Clarke.


	3. What's Going On?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke raises an eyebrow at Lexa with a smirk. “Are you propositioning me, Lexa?” At Lexa’s blush and wide eyes, Clarke continues to lean forward. She absolutely knows that Lexa is struggling to keep her eyes away from where Clarke’s shirt hangs off her body, showing an ample amount of cleavage. “While I, a sleazy artist, am not above sexual favors, I thought that you seemed like a more upstanding citizen.” Going the extra mile, she throws a wink in—just to fuck with Lexa even more because Clarke likes to watch her flounder for words.
> 
> Trying to gather her thoughts, which had gone to the gutter, Lexa squares her shoulders and moves to lean against the kitchen counter across from Clarke, looking dead in her eyes. “Looks like you’ll have to find out for yourself.”
> 
> She stares into Lexa’s eyes, seeing the challenge there. “I guess I will,” Clarke says with smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of this chapter comes from 'What's Up' by 4 Non Blondes.
> 
> My tumblr is: theprettiestbroom.tumblr.com

Clarke is woken up by a loud knock on her front door.

Groaning, “What the hell?” Clarke sits up. It’s 9:00. She wonders who the fuck is knocking on her door at 9:00 in the goddamn morning. If it’s Octavia, Clarke is going to murder her. She will fucking end her.

Forcing her body out of bed, she trudges to the front door. Almost tripping on the art supplies laying all over the floor, she throws the door open with a sour look.

“I know where you fucking live, and if you think I’m above murder, you had better think—” Clarke starts, rubbing her eyes, but then she sees who’s actually standing outside her door.

“Sorry,” Lexa says, looking sheepish. She shifts on her feet and forces herself to look into Clarke’s eyes, not at her adorably disheveled hair and her sleepwear—tiny blue shorts and a loose white shirt that shows that Clarke is obviously braless. “I guess I didn’t really think that you still being asleep was a possibility. I’m kind of an early riser.”

“No, it’s okay.” Clarke takes Lexa in slowly. She’s in athletic gear again and slightly sweaty. Apparently Lexa is able to pull off any sort of ensemble that she wears, even sweaty, because Clarke is kind of turned on—her own version of morning wood, she thinks. “I just haven’t gotten a lot of sleep lately. I’m trying to catch up.”

“I can come back later if you want.” Lexa tries to gesture towards the stairwell, but her hands are full.

“No! Please come in.” Clarke opens the door further for Lexa. “Watch your step,” Clarke says, gesturing to the paints, brushes, and canvases that litter the apartment. Then she notices what Lexa is carrying and sighs. “You didn’t like it?” She runs her hands through her hair and frowns. “Shit. I knew that I should have—”

“No! I love it, but I can’t accept this. It’s far too much.” Lexa gestures toward the painting. “I’m sure it cost you more time and money than I’m worth.”

Lexa really does love the painting. Somehow, Clarke has managed to perfectly capture the summer nights Lexa spent in the woods without ever having been there herself. The painting shows a view of the sky from the eyes of someone laying on the ground. There are trees surrounding the border, their branches covering most of the center of the canvas. Through a break in the tree branches, stars can be seen; one constellation in particular can be picked out—the big dipper. The dark blues and greens fit together in a way that takes talent. This painting is far too spectacular for Lexa to accept without having paid for it.

“I may have stayed up all night a few days ago to do it, but it was worth it.” Clarke shrugs. “You gave me the inspiration to do it, so you deserve it.” Clarke glances between the painting and Lexa as she grabs a water bottle from the refrigerator and drinks from it. “Plus, the moment has more meaning to you than me.”

“Clarke. I can’t.”

“Lexa, you can.” When Clarke sees that the other girl doesn’t look like she’s giving in, she leans forward over the kitchen counter on her elbows and says, “Fine. If you’re so uncomfortable with the idea of taking it without paying me, you can take me out to breakfast instead.”

Lexa still seems hesitant. “Are you sure that’s all you want in return?”

Clarke raises an eyebrow at Lexa with a smirk. “Are you propositioning me, Lexa?” At Lexa’s blush and wide eyes, Clarke continues to lean forward. She absolutely knows that Lexa is struggling to keep her eyes away from where Clarke’s shirt hangs off her body, showing an ample amount of cleavage. “While I, a sleazy artist, am not above sexual favors, I thought that you seemed like a more upstanding citizen.” Going the extra mile, she throws a wink in—just to fuck with Lexa even more because Clarke likes to watch her flounder for words.

Trying to gather her thoughts, which had gone to the gutter, Lexa squares her shoulders and moves to lean against the kitchen counter across from Clarke, looking dead in her eyes. “Looks like you’ll have to find out for yourself.”

She stares into Lexa’s eyes, seeing the challenge there. “I guess I will,” Clarke says with smirk.

Relenting for the moment, Lexa grabs the canvas and moves toward the door. “I have to get cleaned up if we’re going to get breakfast. I’m sure I smell.”

Clarke doesn’t mind the slight musk that Lexa carries. She likes it, even. “Yeah, well,” Clarke gestures to herself. “Obviously I need some cleaning up as well. And a bra.”

Lexa clears her throat, looking away from Clarke, who smiles at the pink creeping up in Lexa’s cheeks. “I’ll leave you to that then. Lobby in 30 minutes?”

“See you then.”

**

Lexa’s hair is braided and wet when she arrives in the lobby. She leans against the wall to wait for Clarke. She looks at her watch. It’s been 33 minutes. Clarke is late.

Clarke is always late, but Lexa doesn’t know that. Not yet.

When the blonde does arrive five minutes later, she’s wearing another loose shirt, this time with flowers on it, tucked into some high waisted shorts.

“You’re late,” Lexa says as she pushes herself off the wall and falls into step with Clarke.

Clarke shrugs. “Yeah, but I’m also cute.”

“There are worse looking people to eat breakfast with, I suppose.”

“Wow, you sure do know how to complement a girl,” Clarke says with a short laugh.

“You haven’t even begun to see my wooing capabilities, Griffin.”

“Well, if we’re talking about just today, you showed up at 9 AM, you were all sweaty, smelly, and gross, you refused my gift that I lost two nights of sleep over, _and_ you suggested sexual favors as a form of payment.” Clarke playfully shrugs at Lexa, a small smile creeping onto her face. “You might not be as great at wooing women as you think you are, Woods.”

“Maybe I’m not trying to woo you.” Lexa smirks at Clarke. “Ever think of that?”

Clarke narrows her eyes and looks rightfully affronted. “So you flirt with all of your platonic friends then?”

“Only the best of my gal pals.”

Clarke can’t help the huge laugh that escapes as they exit the building. She has to admit, that was not the kind of joke she expects from Lexa.

Lexa smiles and winks at Clarke as she moves to turn to the left, but Clarke grabs her arm. “Nope. Not that way.”

Lexa scrunches her eyebrows. “But the diner is that way.”

“We aren’t going to that diner.”

“Where are we going then?”

“First,” Clarke says, reaching into her pocket to grab her car keys, “the parking garage.” With a grin she says, “Then to the best breakfast place in town.”

**

They pull out of the parking garage in Clarke’s small, blue car and head toward the edge of town. Clarke refuses to turn the air on, telling Lexa that she likes driving with her windows down because it makes her feel closer to the outside world. She says that she likes being able to smell the air, feel the wind, and see without a barrier. She also says that she likes to hear the outside noises, but Lexa doubts that she can ever to that, given the volume at which she plays her music.

Lexa doesn’t mind the loudness though, because Clarke sings along to every song she plays from this playlist that Lexa thinks is curiously titled — ‘@music, just fuck me up.’ She[LE1]  likes hearing Clarke sing because her voice is filled with so much emotion, like she’s actually been through what the song is about. She tries not to stare at Clarke too much, but Lexa knows that she fails at this. She thinks that this is her favorite sight of Clarke thus far, with her left foot keeping up the rhythm of each song, her hands tapping the beat on the steering wheel, and her voice singing with that rasp that Lexa finds incredibly sexy.

Somehow in this moment, with this girl that she hardly knows at all, Lexa feels home. She feels so immeasurably happy, just sitting here with her hand hanging out the window as they breeze through the city, listening to a song that she doesn’t know and laughing when Clarke tries, and usually fails, to hit a particularly high note.

With her head tipped back against the headrest, Lexa thinks that she might be starting to feel like she’s home in this city. The morning sun is hitting the trees just the way she likes and the wind is blowing their hair in every direction and the lyrics of the songs are hitting her ears just before being lost outside forever and Clarke is beautiful as she turns on her blinker to turn left and Lexa can’t think of anywhere else she would ever want to be. Because here, she stops feeling so alone.

Clarke is mid-lyric when she glances over and catches Lexa staring. She sings with a smile for the rest of the car ride.

**

“Prepare yourself, Lexa. Your body is about to be ravaged.”

“Clarke, this place is too public for the exchanging of sexual favors.”

Clarke narrows her eyes at Lexa, pulling into a parking space. “While that was good, I meant by breakfast foods, not me.”

Lexa leans in and lowers her voice, letting it drop an octave as they climb out of the car. “Why can’t I have both?”

Blushing a little, Clarke rolls her widened eyes. “I haven’t been properly courted for that yet.”

“I can fix that,” Lexa says before jogging ahead of Clarke to open the door for her, bowing her head as she passes by.

When they’re walking to their table with a waitress who smiles brightly at Lexa in particular, Lexa pays no mind to the blonde whose name tag reads ‘Carly.’ Instead, she holds out her bent arm for Clarke to take and escorts her to the table. Then she pulls out Clarke’s chair for her when they reach the table. They sit opposite each other, and Lexa picks up her menu so she can look at her options.

“You won’t need that,” Clarke says to Lexa, gesturing at the menu.

“Why not?”

Clarke answers with her own question, “How do you feel about chocolate chip waffles?”

“I love them.”

“Then that’s what you’re getting.”

“Why is that?” Lexa leans forward.

“Because I’ve been coming here since I was four. I’ve had everything on the menu, and I know for a fact that this place has the best waffles in town.”

Closing her menu, Lexa shrugs. “I suppose I will take your word for it.”

When the waitress comes back around, she smiles at Lexa again, paying Clarke no mind at all.

“What can I get you, sweetie?” The waitress winks as she clicks the pen hovering over her notepad.

Lexa smiles at Clarke as she hands the waitress her menu. “We’re both going to have chocolate chip waffles, mine with some orange juice and hers with…”

“Apple juice,” Clarke supplies through her teeth to the waitress who still refuses to look at her.

The waitress finishes writing down their order and, again, smiles at Lexa. “That’ll be ready in just a few minutes.” Throwing one last grin over her shoulder at Lexa, she says, “Call me over if you need anything, love.”

Lexa nods in her direction, though she is still looking at Clarke. “You have lived in this city a long time then—to be going to the same diner since you were four years old?”

Clarke nods at her, trying to relax a little after being snubbed by the waitress. “Yeah, my dad used to teach at the university here. Even after he died, my mom and I could never find it in us to leave.” Clarke shrugs. “I mean, this city is full of reminders of him. Hell, he’s the one that used to take me to this diner.”

Lexa doesn’t know much about Clarke; she doesn’t even know how long her father has been dead, but she’s sure that Clarke has had enough pity stemming from his death. Lexa doesn’t tell Clarke that she’s sorry. Instead, she tries to stick to happier topics. So she asks Clarke, “Was he an artist too?”

Clarke laughs so hard that tears collect in her eyes. “Oh my god, no.” She tilts her head back in her laughter. “My dad could hardly draw at all. He was an engineer. He only drew was absolutely necessary. Blueprints and plans, you know, the works—but only with his handy ruler.”

“You get your artistic skills from your mom then?”

“ _Fuck_ _no_.” Clarke shakes her head. “My mom is very… one track minded. She doesn’t get creative.”

“So you just spawned this talent yourself?” Lexa raises her eyebrows.

Both of the girls are too interested in their conversation to notice the waitress who drops off their drinks with another smile for Lexa.

“Well, I guess the need to work with my hands comes from my parents, the engineer and the surgeon. My outlook on life comes from my dad. The creativity came from me, I suppose,” Clarke responds to Lexa’s question.

“You’re lucky you have to have such a beautiful talent.”

“What about you? What are your hobbies?”

“I play soccer at the university. That steals a lot of my free time.”

“Soccer, huh? That’s why you do so much running then?”

Lexa nods. “I have to be able to keep up. I have to be able to run for at least 90 minutes.”

Clarke’s eyes go wide. “Yeah, fuck that.”

“No running for you?”

“No way.”

“I don’t blame you.” At Clarke’s raised eyebrows, Lexa shrugs and elaborates, “Running fucking sucks.”

That draws a laugh from Clarke, which in turn makes Lexa smile. She loves making Clarke laugh.

Finally their waffles arrive, along with Carly the waitress to Clarke’s displeasure. Again, Clarke is completely ignored in favor of Lexa, which irritates her so much that she stabs her waffles extra hard with her fork.

Lexa practically moans at her first bite of waffles. Clarke laughs at the satisfied look on her face and says, “I told you they were good.”

Lexa nods with her eyes closed and a slight smile. “I will not doubt your food choices again.” Her words make Clarke’s heart flutter because it suggests that they will be sharing more meals together.

They chat some more over breakfast, and Carly stops by every so often to check on Lexa.

“I bet you that she’ll write her phone number on the check for you,” Clarke says when the waitress leaves after flirting with Lexa particularly obviously.

“Who?” Lexa asks, taking a sip of her drink.

“The waitress.”

“Oh. Well, I’m not into red heads.”

“She’s blonde.”

“Oh,” Lexa shrugs. “Well, I can’t say I’m not into blondes. That would be a lie.”

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then maybe you should keep her number.”

Lexa shrugs as she finishes the last bit of her waffles. “I honestly can’t even recall what her face looks like. I’m into a certain kind of blonde.”

“You have a type of blondes?”

“Yeah. Cute blondes who are artistic ranks up there.”

“Too bad you don’t know any of those, huh?” Clarke says, looking away shyly with pink cheeks.

“It really is a shame.”

Carly chooses this moment to reappear. “Will there be anything else, or do you want the checks?” She points between the two of them

“Oh, just one check,” Lexa says, actually looking at the woman this time. Clarke was right. She is blonde. “You can bring it to me.”

Clarke sees the waitresses face fall a little bit as she nods and walks away, but when she returns with the check just a few minutes later, Clarke sees that she was right again.

“Did I not tell you that she would give you her number? I swear, Lexa, she’s been flirting with you the whole time.”

“Really?” Lexa askes as she pulls out some cash. “I guess I wasn’t paying her any attention.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing to hear,” Clarke says quietly, ducking her head.

Lexa smiles at Clarke as Carly stops by to pick up the money and then give change, all of which Lexa leaves for her tip—quite a generous one for her troubles.

They get up from their table to walk back to the car, and when Clarke looks back, she can’t help but to be excited by the sight of the check with the waitress’s number still laying on the table.

**

“You’re cute, but can I trust you?” Clarke asks Lexa as they slide back into her car.

“What?” Lexa is genuinely confused by the question because it came out of nowhere. She’s also extremely excited because Clarke just outright called her cute.

“With the auxiliary cord, of course,” Clarke replies, holding the end of the cord out to Lexa.

“Oh. Yeah, sure.”

“There are rules though.”

“Rules? For the aux cord?”

“Yup. Look in the glovebox for the list,” Clarke says as she pulls out of the parking lot.

Lexa finds a worn piece of folded up paper entitled ‘RULES FOR CLARKE’S AUXILARY CORD’ in the glovebox.

The list is as follows:

  1.        NO COUNTRY MUSIC. EVER.
  2.        Limit of 2 rap songs to be played in a row (unless it’s Kanye)
  3.        Rap music must not be degrading to women or violent
  4.        Limit of 3 slow songs to be played in a row
  5.        Oldies are always goodies
  6.        Limit of 2 songs by the same artist to be played in a row (unless it’s Beyoncé)
  7.        Anything that reminds me of bad middle school memories will be shut down immediately
  8.        Songs from the 90s are always acceptable in small doses
  9.        If the majority of the car does not like the song, it gets turned off
  10.    CLARKE HOLDS THE UPMOST AUTHORITY AND RESERVES THE RIGHT TO SUSPEND ANYONE FROM MUSIC PRIVILEGES AND PLAY HER OWN MUSIC INSTEAD



Lexa laughs as she quickly looks through the list. She asks, “What prompted this list?” as she looks through her phone’s music for something to play.

“A big road trip in my senior year of high school.” Clarke laughs as she explains, “There were always huge fights over the music, and so after the first day or two, I made that list to calm the chaos down a little.” She shrugs. “We’ve all stuck by it ever since. It’s the peace keeper.”

Finally settling on a song, Lexa clicks on it and lets the opening guitar strums fill the car. After a few moments, Clarke looks over at Lexa.

“No way,” Clarke says with wide eyes.

With a shrug and one eyebrow raised, Lexa says, “Gotta start with a classic, right?”

“Hell yeah,” Clarke says as she bobs her head along to the beat of ‘What’s Up’ by 4 Non Blondes. She sings along, trying to take on the same quality of the singer’s voice, which makes Lexa laugh heartily, “And so I wake in the morning, and I step outside, and I take a deep breath, and I get real high, and I scream from the top of my lungs, ‘What's going on?’”

As the chorus starts with Clarke singing enthusiastically, Lexa sits, content with watching Clarke sing along. This is apparently not okay with Clarke.

“If you’re going to play a song like this, you have to sing with me. And don’t give me that ‘I don’t know the words’ bullshit. If this song is on your phone, you know the words.”

“Okay, okay,” Lexa says, putting her hands up with her palms facing Clarke as a show that she’s giving up.

Starting to sing quietly along to the song, Lexa finally looks away from Clarke in her slight embarrassment. But when the chorus comes back around, Clarke is singing loudly and looking so happy and open and free and uncaring of who sees.

Lexa wishes she could be that open. She wants to be as happy as Clarke is in this moment. Rolling her shoulders back a little, Lexa raises her voice and sings the chorus louder than her previous attempts, “And I say, hey hey hey hey. I said hey, what's going on?”

Clarke looks over with surprise on her face, but she quickly covers it up with a huge grin. Lexa returns the grin with a small smile of her own.

For the rest of the drive home, they sing together with the music playing as loud as they can stand and smiles that never leave their faces. Every time Clarke looks over at Lexa and catches her staring back with small smile, Clarke swears that her heart pounds faster than what should be humanly possible.

Lexa, though, feels her heart unclench and let itself be free for the first time in a long time. And if she wasn’t lying to herself, she might admit that she’s a little bit scared.

But she keeps on singing. She keeps looking at Clarke and smiling and laughing and feeling the best she’s felt in ages.

**

The phone rings. Lexa is sitting at her desk trying to get some work done, so she has to jog to reach her phone in time to not miss the call. Gus lifts his head as she sprints past him. She doesn’t look at who’s calling before she answers, slightly breathless.

“Hello?”

“Lex, how did you not bang that mechanic at first sight?”

Laughing, Lexa leans on her kitchen counter. “So now you’re the one who’s going to skip the pleasantries, Anya?”

“I can’t help it.” Lexa hears Anya take a deep breath. “That woman may have been my best lay.” A pause. “Ever.”

“Damn. She was that good?”

“You have no idea.”

“Well, considering that I have never had sex with Raven Reyes, you are correct. I have no idea.”

“Shut up, Lexa.” Lexa can hear the smile in Anya’s voice.

Grinning, Lexa asks, “Did you at least make plans to see her again?”

“I can’t seem desperate, dummy. Hell no, I didn’t make more plans to see her. I have to stay elusive and mysterious.” Anya sighs, “Do you know anything, Lexa?”

“Of course I do. I just don’t have the same tactics as you. I like to show interest in potential lovers.”

“Trust me, I showed plenty of interest last night.” Anya says with a wild grin, because she knows that she’s about to get under Lexa’s skin. “With both my mouth and my hands.”

Lexa groans. “Fuck, Anya. I didn’t need or want to know that, you asshole.”

Anya laughs at the sound of disgust in Lexa’s voice. “I might be an asshole, but I least I’m getting laid. Unlike you and cute blondie.”

“I don’t care about that.” Lexa rolls her eyes, even though Anya can’t see her. “I genuinely like this girl, Anya. Sex is not even remotely on my mind.”

“You’re such a sap, Lex.”

“Shut up, Anya.”

**

“Clarke, do you have any food?”

Clarke sighs. “Octavia, we just sat down to study five minutes ago, and you’re already going to start trying to distract yourself?”

“I can’t help it,” Octavia says, rubbing her stomach. “The stomach wants what the stomach wants.”

“You can raid the pantry if you want to,” Clarke groans as she gestures toward the kitchen.

“Yes!” Octavia runs to the kitchen, searching it high and low for a snack she deems worthy.

Clarke rolls her eyes at the noise of disgust Octavia makes at Clarke’s bowl of fruit.

“So,” Octavia draws out the word, her head still searching the shelves of Clarke’s pantry. “I heard that you and Ms. Tall, Dark, and Gorgeous went on a date.”

“It wasn’t really a date. And who told you?”

“I can’t give up my sources, can I?” Octavia asks with a smug grin. “But never mind that. How did your date go?”

“It wasn’t a date, just two girls who had breakfast together.”

“Clarke, you painted something special just for her.” Octavia looks at Clarke with an eyebrow raised. “You didn’t do that for me or Bell for at least a year. Sure, you gave us some sketches, but a full blown painting? No. I think you guys are more than ‘just two girls who had breakfast together.’”

“Well, I don’t know what we are, so I’m sticking with that for now.”

“Breakfast was bad then?” Octavia asks as she snags a granola bar to snack on.

“No! Breakfast was great! Honestly, I had a fantastic time, and I feel like we got to know each other a little bit more. Well, she got to me more. I didn’t find out many things about her; she doesn’t give much away. I think we both enjoyed it, because she basically admitted to being into me, but she has a hard time opening up.”

Around a bite of food, Octavia says, “That’s a lot to gather from a first date.”

Clarke narrows her eyes at her use of the word ‘date,’ but answers her nevertheless. “It didn’t happen only at breakfast, O. She’s like that all the time. Lexa likes to ask me so many questions that I don’t get to ask her many in return.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s anything that you need to worry about yet.” Octavia shrugs. “I mean, you’ve only known her for about two weeks. It takes longer than that to open up for most people. Not everyone can be as giving as you are, Clarke.”

“I know. I just I’m just used to being around the usual crew and everyone oversharing everything. Now that I’m around a new person it’s hard to get used to not knowing everything about them.”

“She’ll come around, Clarke,” Octavia says with a playful smile. “You have a way of breaking us all down eventually. It’s the blonde hair and blue eyes that no one can resist.”

They laugh and joke for a minute more before Clarke snaps them back to their studying and unfinished assignments.

As much as she tries to stay focused, Clarke can’t help but to think about the dark haired girl that has somehow managed to inspire Clarke so much. Octavia did have a point when she mentioned that Clarke didn’t usually paint for someone so quickly. Clarke didn’t think she was in an artistic rut before meeting Lexa, but since they’ve met, Clarke has been sketching more and painting more canvases.

Clarke’s eyes had already been open to the world’s beauty, but she thinks that she can feel them widening.

**

It has been a few days since their breakfast date, and Lexa bounces on the balls of her feet a few times after she types out the text. Looking at the ceiling and letting out a big sigh, she hits send.

“Fuck me,” she says quietly. She looks over at Gus, “Why did I do that? Why did you let me do that? You’re supposed to protect me.”

Gus only tilts his head at her in response.

 

**8:24 PM**  
 **Lexa Woods**  
Look, I’m not good at the whole  
‘art’ or ‘decorating’ thing. Is there  
any way you could help me find a  
place for this piece of art that I  
have recently acquired?

 

Lexa can’t believe what she’s just done. She throws her phone to the couch next to Gus, eager to get away from it. Her nervousness doubles as she paces around her apartment, waiting for a response to her text to Clarke. Luckily, a reply comes quicker than she was expecting. Her phone is still mid-buzz when she snatches it off the couch cushion.

 

 

**8:27 PM**  
 **Clarke Griffin of apartment 16A**  
The artist must be pretty sexy and  
talented if you aren’t really “good at  
the whole ‘art’ or ‘decorating’ thing”  
and you’re still willing to hang up  
her art ;)

**8:28 PM**  
 **Lexa Woods**  
She might be one of those things ;)

 

Clarke gasps. She knows that Lexa is cheeky, but damn. She’s not even going to admit that Clarke is pretty decent at painting? Even if it is a joke, it gets to Clarke.

 

**8:29 PM**  
 **Clarke Griffin of apartment 16A**  
Rude. No way in hell I’m helping now.

 

Lexa doesn’t think that Clarke is serious in her refusal to come, but she plays along anyway. She surprises herself by being more playful and risky than she typically is.

 

**8:31 PM**  
 **Lexa Woods**  
Please? I promise I will make it worth  
your while.

 

Clarke didn’t think Lexa would stoop to pleading for her presence, but here they are. Deciding that she’ll play with Lexa just a little more before relenting, Clarke sends her next message.

 

**8:33 PM**  
 **Clarke Griffin of apartment 16A**  
Are you prompting me with sexual  
favors again?

**8:33 PM**  
 **Clarke Griffin of apartment 16A**  
Because, as I said before, I’m totally  
not above that.

**8:39 PM**  
 **Lexa Woods**  
How about a movie and a bottle of  
wine instead? Call me old fashioned.

**8:41 PM**  
 **Clarke Griffin of apartment 16A**  
Oh, so you’re going to get me a little   
tipsy before you make good on the  
sexual favors you promised.

**8:41 PM**  
 **Clarke Griffin of apartment 16A**  
I’m cool with that. What time?

**8:42 PM**  
 **Lexa Woods**  
Now-ish?

**8:42 PM**  
 **Lexa Woods**  
Unless you’re busy of course.

**8:42 PM**  
 **Lexa Woods**  
Then whenever you want.

**8:42 PM**  
 **Lexa Woods**  
I’m totally free.

**8:42 PM**  
 **Lexa Woods**  
Not that I don’t have stuff I can do,  
but you can come when you please.

 

Lexa’s face is red from her embarrassment at the slew of texts that she just sent. Running her hand over her face, she hopes Clarke doesn’t think that she’s desperate for her attention. She tells herself that she isn’t desperate for Clarke’s presence; she’s just hopeful.

She’s a liar.

 

**8:43 PM**  
 **Clarke Griffin of apartment 16A**  
It pleases me to come first and often ;)

 

If Lexa’s face wasn’t red before, it sure as hell is now. She looks away from her phone and bites her lip. How the hell is she supposed to respond to that? It turns out that she doesn’t have to worry about that when another text buzzes in.

 

**8:43 PM**  
 **Clarke Griffin of apartment 16A**  
I’ll be there in ten minutes.

 

Lexa sighs, glad that Clarke has agreed to come over, and her body relaxes for the first time since sending the initial text to Clarke. She immediately tenses back up when the content of text really sinks in.

Clarke is coming over. To her apartment. In ten minutes.

_Fuck_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can follow me, ask me questions, and give me feedback at: theprettiestbroom.tumblr.com  
> Please come talk to me about the unmentioned music in this chapter.


	4. Let it Pour Out of Your Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Not straight.”
> 
> “A phrase I am all too familiar with,” Lexa sighs to herself, holding the painting still on the wall.
> 
> Apparently she wasn’t quiet enough, because she hears Clarke say, “Luckily, the painting swings both ways, just like me,” with a cheeky grin.
> 
> Looking back over her shoulder for a second with a raised eyebrow, Lexa says, “Yeah? Well, which way should the painting swing?”
> 
> “My way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of this chapter comes from 'San Francisco' by The Mowgli's.
> 
> Shoutout to Sam, a-wild-clone-clubber.tumblr.com, for all the help. 
> 
> My tumblr is: theprettiestbroom.tumblr.com

There’s a knock at the front door. Gustus raises his head from his favorite spot on the couch and gives a low bark. Shaking out her hands, Lexa moves toward the noise, and Gus hops up to follow her to the door. Before she opens the door, she straightens her shirt out and takes a deep breath.

Lexa smiles, pulling open the door to reveal a waiting Clarke. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Clarke responds, smiling widely at a slightly nervous looking Lexa.

“Come in,” Lexa says, opening the door wider.

“I didn’t know you had a dog,” Clarke says as she allows herself to be sniffed all over by Gus.

“Oh, yeah. His name is Gustus.”

Clarke holds her hands out for Gus to sniff. “He’s… rather large.”

“Well, he’s a Great Dane. It’s kind of in his blood to be large. You don’t have to worry though, he won’t hurt you unless you’re aggressive towards me.”

“Duly noted,” Clarke says as she sets her bag down off to the side. She rubs her hands together and looks around the apartment, which is very minimalistic.

She sees that the walls are bare except for a mounted tv. The flat surfaces are free from clutter. The floor is bare except for an area rug. At first it’s not a very inviting place with its modern look, but small details, like the fluffy blanket thrown over the back of the couch and the few small lamps lit up around the space that cast a warm yellow glow throughout the open area, give it a welcoming feel.

“Where do you want to do it?”

Lexa gulps. She manages to choke something out, “What?”

“Hang the painting? Where were you thinking of putting it?”

“Oh. Right.” Lexa has to pause in order to gather herself. “I’m not sure.” She walks around the couch and gestures to the closest wall as she speaks. “At first I thought I should hang it here.” She walks to the other side of the couch and says, “But then I thought that since nothing was hanging over here, it would look too asymmetrical, and that would bother me.”

“You like a balanced look then?”

“I like balance, yes. If one something is hanging on this side of the room, something should be hanging on the other side of the room to even it out. Symmetry is something that I strive for.”

Clarke nods and continues to look around. She gestures toward the rest of the apartment, silently asking if she can take a look around. At Lexa’s nod, she moves toward the hallway.

“There’s nothing here either,” Clarke says, looking at the walls. “You weren’t kidding when you said you weren’t the decorating type.”

Lexa shrugs and settles against the wall with a small smile.

“I would suggest that you hang it here, but again, that would cause an imbalance.”

Lexa nods as Clarke continues down the hallway. When Clarke points to the first door on the left with raised eyebrows, Lexa says, “Bathroom.” Clarke points to door on the right, and Lexa fills her in. “Office.” Clarke moves to the last door, the one at the very end of the hallway. “Bedroom,” Lexa says before Clarke can ask. Moving her hand toward the doorknob with a silent question in her eyes as she looks back at Lexa, Clarke raises an eyebrow once again. At Lexa’s nod, she slowly opens the door.

Lexa’s room is different than Clarke was expecting. While the rest of her apartment has modern couches and tables with lots of glass, her room is full of dark wood. Her walls are a dark green color that reminds Clarke of the leaves on trees. The headboard on her bed might even be made out of real, raw branches. She has a dresser on one wall and a vanity on the other. Her large bed faces a wall that is empty except for two large windows. There’s a gap between the windows that Clarke thinks is perfect.

She walks over to the space and reaches her hand out to the wall. “How about here?” Clarke asks as she turns back to Lexa, who is silently watching Clarke from her place in the doorway.

Lexa looks around as she tries to decide whether or not she likes the spot. Clarke tries to help her out by explaining her reasoning for the space, “The painting would be framed by the windows. If you’re worried about the opposite wall looking bare, I think that your headboard takes up enough space to even it out. It’ll be balanced.”

Looking around one last time, Lexa nods slowly. “Okay, I’ll go get the painting. I had to lock it in the office to stop Gus from getting it.”

While Lexa’s gone, Clarke looks out the large windows, realizing why Lexa chose her bed to face them. The view points out of the city, towards the nature left untouched by the suburban sprawl. It is truly beautiful, even though the light has almost gone from the land. Clarke could get used to a sight like this.

Finally, Lexa comes back with the painting and some supplies to hang it up.

“Have you ever hung anything up before?”

Lexa responds with her own question. “Did you see the bare walls?”

“Good point,” Clarke nods and claps her hand together. “Let’s get to work then.”

**

“Not straight.”

“A phrase I am all too familiar with,” Lexa sighs to herself, holding the painting still on the wall.

Apparently she wasn’t quiet enough, because she hears Clarke say, “Luckily, the painting swings both ways, just like me,” with a cheeky grin.

Looking back over her shoulder for a second with a raised eyebrow, Lexa says, “Yeah? Well, which way should the painting swing?”

“My way.”

Lexa looks over her shoulder again with an eyebrow raised in question and a look of slight exasperation. “You’re standing directly behind me, Clarke.”

“Left,” Clarke says, rolling her eyes.

“Got it,” Lexa says, shifting the painting a millimeter to the left and taking a few steps back to look at it.

When she’s standing side by side with Clarke, Lexa hears a quiet question, “Do you like it?”

Lexa looks over at Clarke to find her looking directly at the painting. “I love it, Clarke.”

“Are you sure? Because I can make you something else.”

“No, this is perfect. I didn’t know this was something that I needed, but now that I have it, I’m not letting go.”

**

“What movie are we watching?” Clarke asks as they walk back to the living room area.

“Whatever you want. The movies are in that cabinet over there.” Lexa goes to the kitchen to grab the wine. “Do you want red or white?”

“Red.”

“Do you want anything else?”

“No, I’m good.” As Lexa moves to the living room with the wine and a couple of glasses, Clarke is still searching through the movies. “Why do you have so many scary movies?” Clarke reads off the names as she goes through them, “Saw, Friday the 13th, The Blair Witch Project, Nightmare on Elm Street.” She looks up at Lexa, who is busy uncorking the wine bottle. “Who has this many scary movies?”

Lexa shrugs, pouring wine into their glasses. “I just like horror movies.”

“What about all the gore?”

“It doesn’t bother me.” Lexa smiles, “Hell, sometimes it’s even so bad that it makes me laugh.”

“You laugh at horror movies?” Lexa gives a slight shrug. “I’m sorry, I have to leave right now immediately.”

Lexa laughs as Clarke shakes her head and continues looking through the movies.

“Oh, look. More scary movies.” Clarke rolls her eyes. “What a surprise,” she says sarcastically, about to shift the movie aside to look for something not scary.

“Wait!” Lexa walks over to where Clarke is crouched down. “This one is my favorite,” she says, gently taking the movie from Clarke’s hands.

“A movie called Scream?”

“Yeah.” Lexa holds up the case. “This movie is funny, scary, and super meta.”

“Meta?” Clarke raises her eyebrows.

“Yeah. Like, it’s a movie knows that it’s a scary movie, and it plays with that.”

“Okay. If it’s your favorite, let’s watch it.”

“Are you sure? If you aren’t into scary movies, we don’t have to watch it.”

“Put it on.”

As Lexa sets up the movie, Clarke relaxes in the middle of the couch as Gus curls up to right of her, leaving Lexa no choice but to sit next to her. She didn’t tell Lexa before, but she is terrified of horror movies. As much as she wants to say that she wants Lexa to sit next to her because she just likes being close to her, she knows it’s because she’s likely to piss her pants at this movie. She can’t do this sober.

“How about we make this interesting?”

“How so?”

“A drinking game.”

Lexa looks up from fiddling with the remotes at this. “What are the rules of this drinking game?”

“Obviously, we drink every time someone dies.”

“Obviously.”

“And then… I don’t know what else happens a lot in this movie?”

Lexa thinks about it for about two seconds before she decides. “Every time they break one of the golden rules in the movie, we drink.”

“What are the golden rules?”

“The rules that you are supposed to follow in a horror movie so you’ll survive until the end.”

“Which are?”

“First, you can _never_ have sex—“

“I’d be dead.” Clarke smirks.

Lexa raises an eyebrow at the interjection. “You and me both then.”

Clarke raises an eyebrow as Lexa asks, “May I continue?” At Clarke’s nod, Lexa says, “You can never consume alcohol.”

“Shit, we’re dead again.”

Lexa rolls her eyes, but continues, “You can never say ‘I’ll be back.’”

“That’s fair,” Clarke says. “Oh, but Lexa?”

“Yeah?”

“I have to go to the bathroom before we start the movie.”

“Yeah, sure. You remember where it is?”

“I do.” Clarke starts to walk away, but turns around when she reaches the hallway. “And Lexa?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll be back.”

**

Lexa has seen this movie countless times, so she knows when every death happens and isn’t surprised when, in the first five minutes, two people are already dead.

Clarke, however, did not know that the movie started off strong. She clenches her jaw tightly, trying not to hide her eyes when the boyfriend—Steve, she thinks his name is—gets stabbed in the backyard.

When Drew Barrymore’s character is being chased, Clarke actually thinks for a second that she’ll get away. Then the killer is on her and the fight is over. Clarke can’t help herself. She jumps and reaches out to grab Lexa’s arm when the masked man appears on the screen.

Seeing that Clarke is afraid makes Lexa feel bad, but she likes Clarke’s warm hand on her.

“I told you that we didn’t have to watch this, Clarke.”

“I know, but you seemed into it,” Clarke says, slowly removing her arm from Lexa’s.

“That sort of thing doesn’t matter to me, Clarke. If you don’t want this, I don’t want this either.”

Clarke sighs. “We’re going to keep watching this.” Looking into Lexa’s eyes as she scoots closer to her on the couch, she says, “I’m not a quitter.” She grabs her wine from the table. “But I’m certainly not doing this sober. Plus, two people have already died. That’s two ‘shots’ of wine.”

Lexa picks up her glass, clinking it against Clarke’s. They both smile and take two large gulps, drinking for the dead teens.

As Clarke relaxes back into the couch with Gustus’ head in her lap and Lexa’s warmth next to her, Clarke thinks that she can survive this movie.

**

They’ve reached the big party scene at the end of the movie when they crack open a second bottle of wine and Clarke starts to get the giggles.

“I bet the killer is her boyfriend,” Clarke says, pointing to the screen at Billy and laughing at his floppy 90s hair.

“Why him?” Lexa say, impressed that Clarke guessed correctly. Well, sort of correctly, since there are two killers.

“He has creepy eyes.”

Lexa shrugs. “True.”

“He kinda looks like a boy that I used to date. Finn. They both have stupid floppy hair. And intense eyes.”

“I thought you said his eyes were creepy.”

“Yeah.”

Lexa raises her eyebrows at Clarke, which makes the blonde giggle, hiding her face behind her glass of wine. Lexa can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of her throat as well.

They continue watching the movie for a few minutes before Clarke speaks up again. “Finn cheated on me.”

Lexa looks over to see Clarke fiddling with the rim of her glass. The wine makes Lexa have loose lips. “Then he’s a piece of shit and doesn’t deserve you.”

Clarke looks up. “You think so?”

“Absolutely.”

“He tries to get back together with me every so often, but I just can’t. I can’t date him again.”

Lexa nods, seeing that Clarke is slowly deteriorating in front of her eyes. Carefully, Lexa reaches her arm out and sets it on Clarke’s shoulders, pulling Clarke towards her a little. “If you can’t trust him anymore, it’s okay to say no. You don’t have to feel bad for it.”

Clarke lets her head fall onto Lexa’s shoulders. “I know. It’s just hard. I used to love him.”

“Well, maybe you can move on,” Lexa says, resting her chin on the top of Clarke’s head. “Find someone else to love.”

Shifting her head up so she can look at Lexa, Clarke says, “I think I have.”

Lexa holds her breath as Clarke leans toward her face to whisper in her ear.

Breathily, Clarke whispers, “I think I love Gustus.”

Lexa can’t help but to let out her breath in a huge laugh. When Lexa’s forehead bumps against Clarke’s, the blonde joins in the laughter. The noise wakes Gus up, and he picks up his head from Clarke’s lap to give a small whine. This only makes the girls laugh harder.

The two women quiet down and settle back into the couch and each other, getting too comfortable. With the warmth of the three bodies lounging on the couch and the warmth of the wine in their bellies, they quickly find themselves falling asleep.

**

Lexa wakes up to blonde hair everywhere. Just fucking everywhere. In her eyes, in her mouth, tickling her ears—everywhere. Slowly, she swipes the hair out of her face and starts to sit up. She and Clarke ended up spooning in the middle of the night—Lexa being the big spoon and Clarke the little spoon. Lexa tries to carefully pry her arm out from beneath Clarke’s head, replacing it with a pillow off the floor. Gustus must have evacuated the couch when they laid down because he is nowhere to be seen.

Clarke looks so peaceful when she’s sleeping that Lexa can’t bear to wake her up, so she carefully climbs over her sleeping body and off the couch. Lexa snags her phone off the coffee table as she moves to the kitchen to start making coffee. She sees that she has an unread text from Anya.

 

 **8:32 AM** ****  
**Anya Pierce**  
Don’t forget that we moved practice  
to 9:30 today because Coach has a  
doctor’s appointment later today.

 

Lexa gasps. She had totally forgotten that they moved the practice. The plans were made three weeks ago, and she hadn’t written it down anywhere. She looks at the time. It’s 9:12 AM.

 _Fuck_.

As Lexa runs—quietly, so that she doesn’t wake Clarke—to her room, she strips off her shirt. She jumps out of her pants and pushes into her closet, violently pulling her practice uniform off the hangers.

As she’s searching for a sports bra to put on, she sees Gustus laying on her bed. She smirks at his sleeping form, quickly pulling off one bra in favor for another. “Lucky bastard, getting the whole bed to yourself.” She lightly pats him on the head before moving on to the next task.

She puts on her uniform and throws her hair into bun before pulling on her long socks and throwing on her running shoes. She’s going to need them. She knows that she’ll have time to put on her shin guards and cleats at the field if she runs the whole way there. She grabs her soccer bag and two water bottles from the fridge, putting one in her bag and chugging the other while taking two Advil for the dull headache she has.

Just as she’s walking out the door, she remembers the blonde girl sleeping on her couch.

 _Fuck_.

Lexa runs back in and grabs a pen and piece of paper, quickly scribbling out a note and leaving it on the coffee table for Clarke to find when she wakes up. Then she grabs the blanket from the back of the couch and spreads it across Clarke’s sleeping form with one last look at Clarke’s sweet, peaceful face.

Then she sprints out the door without looking back.

******

“Oh, look who finally decided to show up.”

Lexa sets her bag down on the sidelines and plops down next to it to change shoes. “Shut up, Anya.”

“You’re always so adamant that we get to practice on time. We’re allowed to rag on you for being late sometimes, Lex.”

“I’m two fucking minutes late. Give a break this one time. Please.” Lexa stands and grabs her ball from her bag. “I woke up about twenty minutes ago, and I’ve got a slight hangover.”

“A hangover?” Anya asks, continuing her stretches with the rest of the girls on the team. “Who were you drinking with while I wasn’t there?”

Lexa halfheartedly does her stretches. She’s already warmed up from the run here. “Clarke,” she responds quietly, not wanting the others to hear.

“Your cute blonde?”

Lexa nods.

“So she’s why you got a late start, you saucy minx!”

Alarmed, Lexa looks around the group, hoping no one heard. “Anya, keep your voice down!”

“What? You don’t want the team knowing that their captain totally got laid last night?”

“Quiet down!” Lexa bends to tighten her laces. “And I didn’t get laid last night.”

“ _What?_ Why not?”

Lexa calls out for everyone to start the first drill. She turns to answer Anya quickly before taking her place in the drill. “We were drinking wine and watching a movie and talking and then we just… fell asleep. Nothing happened.”

“Oh my god, Lex. You’re awful at this,” Anya says as she jogs to her place next to Lexa.

“Sex isn’t my main goal. We’ve been over this.”

Eventually they split up due to the drill. As Lexa jogs in the opposite of Anya to meet a pass from another player, she hears, “You’re too much of a sap, captain.” A few of their teammates chuckle at Anya’s words, looking at Lexa with disbelieving eyes.

“Shut up, Anya. I’ll make you run laps.”

The only response she earns is manic laughter from the opposite end of the field.

**

Clarke wakes up with a start. She touches her face and feels a wetness there. Then she looks up and sees the huge dog staring at her with his big, brown eyes. He must have licked her awake.

“Morning, Gus,” Clarke says, rubbing at her eyes before she reaches out to pet his head. She looks around the living room and asks him, “Where’s Lexa, bud?”

He whines as Clarke stands and stretches her arms out. She meanders over to the kitchen where she smells coffee brewing, thinking that she’ll find Lexa there. She isn’t. Clarke thinks that maybe Lexa made a pot of coffee and went back to bed, so she pads down the hallway to Lexa’s bedroom. She notices that the bathroom is empty, and she peeks into the office and sees that it’s empty as well.

Lexa’s bedroom door is open, so Clarke knocks lightly on the doorframe as she enters. Lexa’s bed is made and untouched, except for a Gus shaped wrinkle in the comforter. The clothes that Lexa was wearing last night are all over the floor—shirt, pants, and even bra Clarke sees as she accidentally steps on it. Lexa seems like such an orderly person, so Clarke finds it odd that Lexa left her clothes all over the place like this. She must have left in a hurry.

Clarke walks back to the living room to call Octavia and gush about her night when she sees it. There’s a note on the table with her name written on it in tight, straight script.

 

Clarke,

I’m sorry that you’re going to wake up without me, but I had an early soccer practice that I needed to go to. You’re welcome to anything in the kitchen. There’s coffee, bagels, Advil—whatever you need or want, go for it. I’ll make it up to you later. And no, not in sexual favors.

-Lexa

 

Clarke chuckles and walks back to kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. As she searches for sugar and creamer, she hears Gus pad into the kitchen. When she’s mixing in the appropriate amount of each, she hears another whine. She looks over and sees Gus pawing at his empty food bowl. Leaving her coffee on the counter, she walks over and sighs. In her rush to leave, Lexa probably forgot to feed him. She looks around the kitchen for his food, and she finds a large container of it in the pantry. Just as she’s wondering how much to give him, she spots a note taped to the front of the container. According to the note, he gets two scoops in the morning.

She grabs his food bowl and puts two large scoops of food in it before setting it down for him. Then she grabs his water dish, dumping the old water in the sink before refilling it with fresh, cool water from the sink.

After a minute of looking, she finds the bagels and puts one in the toaster to heat up. Then she returns to the living room and grabs the note and a nearby pen. She quickly writes a note on the back of it as she walks to the kitchen to check on her bagel.

 

Lexa,

I think you forgot to feed your dog this morning, so I fed him before I left.

-Clarke

 

After slathering her bagel in cream cheese, she sits at the kitchen counter to eat, watching Gus chow down. She grabs the note and pen, subconsciously starting to sketch out the silhouette of the dog. She catches herself drawing, but decides to finish it with more detail. She draws Gustus’ food bowl with his name on it, draws all the spots and markings on his fur, and perfectly draws the flop of his ears.

She finishes up her bagel and coffee, putting her dishes in the sink and setting the note back on the coffee table. Before she leaves, Clarke folds up the blanket she was covered in and puts it back in its place. Gus jumps up on the couch and curls up as she grabs her bag. Clarke gives him a pat on the head as she turns to go.

“Bye, Gus,” Clarke says as she walks out of the apartment and heads to her own.

When she sits down on her own couch just a few minutes later to call Octavia, she misses the presence of the large dog beside her.

**

Lexa returns home and immediately takes Gus outside on a walk so he use the bathroom and get some energy out. He seems to be in a particularly playful mood, so she grabs a ball to throw in the field down the street.

As the elevator doors open to the lobby, Gus rushes out and pulls on the leash attached to Lexa’s wrist.

“Ow, jeez, Gus. Slow down.” When she looks up and sees Gus sniffing and jumping up on someone who was waiting for the elevator, Lexa immediately rushes to pull him off. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. He’s just really friendly—” Then Lexa sees who it is. “Oh. Hi.”

Clarke smiles, pulling an earbud out of her ear. “Hi.” She pets Gus, whose entire body is wiggling with happiness as he whips his tail back and forth. “Long time, no see.”

Lexa laughs and gestures to Gus, “Well, we were about to go for a walk. If you aren’t busy, you’re free to join us.”

“I was just coming back from brunch with Octavia, but yeah, sure. I’m up for a walk. I missed this big guy.”

“Not me?” Lexa asks as they walk out of the building.

“Well, you’re the one who ditched me this morning. Gus was sweet enough stay with me all morning.”

Lexa’s eyes widen. “Did you not get my note? I swear, I left one on the coffee table. I had to go to practice.” Lexa tugs on her shirt. “Hell, I’m still in my practice uniform. Clarke, you have to believe me. I didn’t want to leave.”

“Lexa, Lexa, slow down. I believe you! I got your note; I saw that you had practice. Don’t worry about it. Did you not get my note?”

“You left a note?”

“Yeah, on the back of yours. It’s on the table. It wasn’t important. Just letting you know that I fed Gus this morning. Two scoops, right?”

Lexa nods. “Thank you.”

They make their way into the field, and Lexa unclasps Gus’ leash to let him roam free and use the bathroom.

After a few minutes of sniffing around, he comes back and noses into Lexa’s palm, trying to get the ball that she holds.

“Can I?” Clarke asks, holding her hand out for the ball.

“Sure,” Lexa says, handing it over.

Clarke tosses the ball for Gustus, and they laugh when Gus trips over his own feet when trying to get the ball.

“What were you listening to? Earlier, I mean.” Lexa points to the earbuds dangling from Clarke’s shoulders.

“Oh, uh.” Clarke pulls out her phone to check, showing the screen to Lexa. “San Francisco by The Mowgli’s. Why? Are you looking for more recommendations?”

“Maybe.”

Clarke laughs at Lexa’s attempt to look aloof. Lexa likes that she can still make Clarke laugh.

On their walk back the apartment after an hour or so, Clarke asks, “So, when will I see you again?”

Lexa thinks for a second. Then she gets an idea.

“How do you like soccer?”

**

Back in her apartment, Clarke pulls out her phone and quickly finds the number she wants to call.

“Really, Griffin? You’re already back for more? It’s only been like, two or three hours.” Octavia chuckles into the phone.

“Do you still like soccer?”

This makes Octavia pause. “Women’s soccer? Hell yeah. We would probably still watch it together, if we didn’t have to stop because you always get frustrated at the ref and yell at the tv.”

Clarke ignores the jab. She knows that she gets… excitable when it comes to sports. “Do you and Lincoln have plans for tomorrow night?”

“No. What are you getting at, Clarke?”

“Will you and Lincoln escort me to watch Lexa’s soccer game?” Clarke pauses before quietly saying, “I don’t want to go alone.”

Octavia smiles. “So your elevator hottie invited you to watch her play, huh?” She can’t help but to tease Clarke a little bit because rarely does she like people as much as this Lexa girl.

“Yes, and I want to go, but not alone.”

“Okay, yeah, I think Lincoln would be up for that.” Rolling her eyes, Octavia says, “We’ll be there to support you and your cutie.”

“Thanks, Octavia. You’re the best.”

“I know.”

**

The next day, Saturday, Clarke is wearing her most spirited outfit, which makes Octavia laugh a little.

They head to the crowded bleachers to try to find seats. The group isn’t late to the game, but the seats are filling up quickly. Apparently this is a much anticipated game, and Lexa’s team, the Arkers, are anticipated to win. People start cheering as Clarke and the others find their seats, and Clarke whirls around to the field to see why.

Lexa’s team has just started to run out of the locker room, with Lexa at the front, wearing heavy black paint around her eyes and her hair in many intricate braids.

“Lexa is the captain of the team? You guys didn’t tell me that,” Lincoln says in her ear.

Clarke’s eyes drift down to Lexa’s arm, where a brightly colored armband rests around her toned bicep, marking her as the captain of the team. “I didn’t know…”

The team stretches on the field for a few minutes before the game is ready to start. Lexa wins the coin toss and takes her place as left forward. Clarke spots Lexa’s friend from the party, Anya, opposite Lexa as right forward. The two forwards share a quick grin as the whistle blows, and they take off with the ball, passing it back and forth as they weave around defending players and hitting few obstacles.

Soon enough, Lexa, who is apparently left footed, sends the ball into the upper right corner of the goal. Anya runs to Lexa, grabbing her around the waist to sling her around in a circle. Clarke hears a laugh go throughout the crowd, after a big cheer. Lexa is smiling from ear to ear as she searches the stands with her eyes. She spots Clarke and smiles impossibly wider, putting her hand up for a quick wave.

Waving back, Clarke sees Anya say something to Lexa as she sets her back down on the field. Lexa blushes and shoves Anya away from her as they jog back to the center of the field. Anya just laughs at her.

Then the girl standing in front Clarke says loudly to her friend, “I didn’t think Woods and Pierce would be able to pull off their standard goal within five minutes against these guys, but there they go. They somehow pull that shit off every single game.”

Clarke is impressed. And from the look that Octavia and Lincoln share, it seems like they are too. It’s normal for Lexa to get a goal in less than three minutes? This knowledge only makes Clarke even more excited to see the rest of the game. And slightly turned on. Clarke fucking loves sports.

**

They’re midway through the second half and up by two goals when the ball goes out on the opposing goal line by a defending player.

The following corner kick sends the ball flying into the box. Lexa, as well as three other players, jumps up in an attempt to head the ball. There are too many people going after the same ball. Smacking heads with two girls during her jump, Lexa instantly feels pain flare up like a branding iron.

Lexa goes down. Hard.

Clarke jumps up as the crowd collectively draws in a gasp. Clarke doesn’t even hear it. She’s too focused on the brunette who is laying immobile on the field.

Instantly, Clarke moves to the aisle of the bleachers, shoving through the crowd and trying to get closer to the field. She doesn’t hear the grumbles of the people that she shoves past.

She sees medics out on the field, examining Lexa, who still seems to be out of it. There’s blood rushing out of a gash on her head, and Clarke can’t breathe. She can’t think.

As Clarke finally reaches the fence surrounding the field, she sees that the paramedics are loading Lexa on a stretcher, about to wheel her away to the ambulance is parked near the edge of the field.

Clarke is trying to climb the fence, trying to get closer to Lexa, trying to find out what’s going on. Suddenly, Lincoln is there, hands on her waist and hoisting her over the fence before hopping over it himself, trying to stay close to Clarke because she is obviously upset.

Clarke runs toward the paramedics, toward an unconscious Lexa. She has to dodge a few players from Lexa’s team, who had gathered around to watch their captain get taken away from the game. Clarke grabs for her hand as the paramedics try to shoo her away.

“Ma’am, please back up. We need to get her to the hospital as soon as possible.”

“Is she okay?”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss her condition with you.”

“Please,” Clarke begs as she grips the paramedic’s arm. “She my girl—She’s my friend.”

The paramedic sighs. “She’s had head trauma. The hospital will have to screen her for more information. Now, please, back away,” the paramedic says as she loads Lexa into the ambulance.

“Where are you taking her?”

“The hospital, ma’am,” the woman sighs as she leans out the back to grab the door.

“Which hospital?”

The paramedic must see the desperation in Clarke’s eyes, because she quietly responds, “Piedmont.”

“Thank you,” Clarke yells over her shoulder as she starts to quickly walk away.

Lincoln is right beside her as she walks to the parking lot and then to her car. She veers right to go toward the edge of the lot where car is. Grabbing her arm and steering her left, Lincoln shakes his head.

“Clarke, you can’t drive like this. Octavia will take you to the hospital. She’s already waiting in the truck.”

“What about you?”

“Give me your keys. I’ll take your car there, so you have a way home.”

When they reach his truck, he opens her door for her and gives her a tight hug. “She’ll be alright, Clarke. I know it.” When they finally pull apart, Clarke sees wet spots on his shirt where her face had rested.

Wiping her eyes, Clarke gives him a nod. “Thanks, Lincoln.”

Lincoln gestures to the inside of the truck, “Go on.” He leans around Clarke as she climbs in and looks right at Octavia. “Not too fast, okay? Be safe.” Looking at Clarke again, he says, “Buckle up.”

Octavia nods. “I’ve got it. We’ll be fine.” She grabs Clarke’s hand as Lincoln shuts the door and backs away. “And so will Lexa. She’s strong and thick skulled. Her head is too tough to be hurt.”

Nodding, Clarke looks out her window at the night’s darkness, only broken by the traffic lights that she speed through. She feels more hot tears streaking down her face. Clarke is trying hard to keep it together, but she know that she won’t be able to keep it in for much longer.

She doesn’t want to admit it, but she’s scared. Clarke wants Lexa to be okay with everything in her being. Even though she isn’t a religious woman, Clarke prays to any god listening.

The ride to the hospital is quiet, except for an occasional sniffle from Clarke. As Clarke shifts closer to Octavia to lean her head on her shoulder, she feels Octavia squeeze her hand.

The whole way to the hospital, the only thought Clarke can manage past her wish for Lexa to be okay is that she wishes it was Lexa’s hand in hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can follow me, ask me questions, and give me feedback at: theprettiestbroom.tumblr.com  
> Come yell at me for this ending please.


	5. I'll Fight Until the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya shakes her head, her eyes filled with something almost akin to wonder. “How can she look so… fine, yet at the same time be so broken?”
> 
> Clarke closes her eyes briefly, saying quietly, “She’s broken in ways that we can’t see.” She moves her eyes to study the steady rise and fall of Lexa’s chest. “Isn’t everyone?”
> 
> Anya moves her tired eyes to Clarke, with a half smirk. “It’s way too early in the morning to be that deep, blondie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of this chapter comes from M83's 'Outro'. You should definitely listen to it while reading this chaper.
> 
> My tumblr is: theprettiestbroom.tumblr.com

Clarke speed walks into the hospital with Octavia and Lincoln following closely behind. She leads them down a series of hallways, and finally they arrive at a nurses’ station where a few people are milling about. Walking right up to one of the women with a name tag that reads ‘Susan,’ Clarke smiles as she leans against the counter with an air of confidence.

“Hey, Susan, can I ask a favor?”

Susan looks up from the paper she was reading in surprise. “Clarke! What’re you doing here, baby?” With a sad smile, she says, “You should have called first, love. Your mom is in surgery right now.”

Walking around the counter to give the older woman a hug, Clarke gives a small chuckle as she says, “I didn’t come to see her today, unfortunately.” At Susan’s raised eyebrows, Clarke continues, “I actually have a friend who was admitted here just a little while ago.”

With narrowed eyes, the older woman clucks her tongue, “Oh, and you only came to see me because you want to pry some information about your ‘friend’ out of me, huh?”

Clarke gives a sheepish smile. “No, I came to see you because you’re my favorite nurse in the entire hospital.” At Susan’s pointed look, Clarke continues with a lowered voice, “And I need you to dig up some dirt on my friend.”

Shaking her head, Susan walks over to the station computer. “You’re lucky that you were a cute kid. You’re only my favorite doctor’s kid because those chubby cheeks and little blonde curls were hard to resist. And you didn’t act like a spoiled brat.” With a wink, she says, “I’m not sure if you’re cute enough now to make up for the trouble you give me though.” After she has logged into the computer, she asks for the name.

“Lexa. Lexa Woods.”

Susan shakes her head. “There’s no Lexa Woods.”

“Are you sure?” At Susan’s nod, Clarke asks, “Could you try a full first name?” Clarke thinks about what Lexa’s full name would be. “Alexa or Alexus? Alexandria, maybe?”

“There is one Alexandria Woods. 22 years old. Head injury. Does that sound right?”

“That’s her. Can I see her?”

Susan shakes her head. “She’s family only right now. They’re keeping her under close watch in the ICU because she hasn’t woken up yet.” This news disappoints Clarke and doesn’t do anything to assuage Clarke’s fears. “They have to make sure that her brain isn’t swelling up too badly.”

“Any idea when they’ll move her?”

“Not yet. If you want to sit in the waiting room, I’ll call you when there’s more information. Maybe your mom can find out more for you.”

Clarke nods and thanks her, moving over to a comfy looking armchair. Lincoln and Octavia follow her, trailing silently and sitting at her sides.

“You guys don’t have to stay. You’ve done too much for me tonight already. I owe you one.”

Lincoln pats Clarke’s back while Octavia says, “No, don’t worry about us, Clarke. This is obviously a stressful situation, and we’re happy to help you with anything you need.”

“You guys are the best. I love you,” Clarke says, slinging her arms around their shoulders pulling them closer until they’re all bumping foreheads and sharing a small laugh, despite the scary situation.

**

Soon after they sit down, Clarke’s adrenaline rush wears off, and she’s hit with a wave of exhaustion. Just as she’s leaning back in her chair with her mind set on a quick nap, her phone rings in her pocket. She quickly pulls it out to see who’s calling her. She can’t help the gasp that slips between her lips at the sight.

She holds the phone out to Octavia and Lincoln to show them the screen, confused as to why it says, ‘Lexa Woods,’ when Clarke knows that she is supposed to be unconscious upstairs.

“Well, answer it!” Octavia says loudly, gesturing wildly at Clarke’s hands.

Fumbling a little, Clarke answers the call and puts the phone against her ear. “Lexa?” Clarke asks, sounding breathless.

There’s some shuffling on the other end, before a voice responds, “Sorry to disappoint you, blondie, but it’s Anya, not Lexa.”

“Oh,” Clarke says, feeling her heart sink further down in her chest.

Octavia silently asks who is on the other end. Covering the bottom of her phone, Clarke quietly mouths Anya’s name. Octavia nods, though she still looks slightly confused. Lincoln leans over and whispers something into Octavia’s ear, prompting a quiet conversation between the two.

Anya’s voice reappears. “Well, you don’t have to sound _so_ disappointed. Are you at the hospital yet?”

“Yeah, I’ve been here for a couple of hours now.”

“Alright, I’m on my way there. I had to stop by her apartment to let the dog out. I’m bringing all the stuff that Lex left at the field.” Anya sounds slightly out of breath. “How’s she doing?”

Clarke leans back into her chair, trying to relax. “I’m not completely sure. They won’t let anyone but family see her yet. She probably has a concussion, but hasn’t woken up yet because her brain has swelled up.”

Sighing deeply, Anya wonders what this means for her best friend. “Okay. I’ll be there shortly.”

“See you soon.”

Clarke and Anya both hang up with heavy hearts and worry rampant throughout their minds.

**

Anya arrives about 20 minutes later with wet hair and Lexa’s soccer bag in tow.

She sits down next to Clarke, letting out a deep groan and sitting low in her chair. “Any news on Lex since we spoke?”

“Not yet.” Clarke looks over at Octavia and Lincoln, who have taken up a game of ‘Eye Spy’ and are trying to one up each other with increasingly difficult picks. “Hey, guys,” Clarke says, interrupting Octavia as she’s guessing Lincoln’s latest pick. “You two really don’t have to stay here anymore. It’s been like, three hours, and we still don’t have any idea what’s going on. Go home and sleep.”

Lincoln looks unsure. “Are you sure, Clarke? We don’t mind staying longer.”

Octavia jumps in, “Yeah, babe. We’re here for as long as you need.”

With a soft smile, Clarke shakes her head. “You’ve done enough for one night. Don’t worry about me; I’ll be fine. Plus, I’ve got Anya here to keep me company.”

Finally, the couple concedes. They leave only after making Clarke promise to call them when she finds out about Lexa’s condition.

When they’re alone, Clarke looks at Anya. “How’d you get ahold of Lexa’s stuff? And into her phone?” Lexa is a private woman, surely she had a password on her phone.

Anya chuckles. “Luckily, that punk didn’t lock her locker before the game. I found her phone in her bag and guessed her password fairly easily.” Clarke raises her eyebrows at this, surprised. Anya just shrugs. “I’ve known Lexa for years. She’s an open book to me. Plus, I figured I should make sure someone was here for her. I knew you were on your way here, but I don’t have your number.”

“Did you call anyone else? Do her parents know she’s in the hospital?”

Anya looks away and inhales heavily. “Lexa… She doesn’t have parents.”

Clarke looks over with wide eyes. “What do you mean?”

Leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees, Anya sighs, “Her parents died years ago.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I had no idea.” Clarke thinks back to when she mentioned her own dead father to Lexa. No wonder she had known how to perfectly handle the situation. She knew what to say because she had been through the same thing.

“Yeah,” Anya nods. “It was a rough time for Lexa. She isn’t the best with... coping. She lost her parents, and then the whole thing with Costia happened.” Looking back over at Clarke, Anya shakes her head and says, “It’s not really my place to tell you this stuff, but just know that part of her life was tough and she has trouble talking about it.” Anya looks away. “Don’t push too hard on it.”

Clarke nods. It used to be hard for her to talk about her father’s death as well, but then she found that talking about him helped to ease the pain some. She knows that not everyone feels the same. “So, Lexa has no one? No family?”

“She has an aunt of sorts.” Anya stretches her arms out. “Lexa’s mom’s best friend. Indra. She should be here tomorrow morning. She’s catching a flight out of Washington DC tonight.”

It’s hard to believe that Clarke is finally getting information about Lexa, but it’s not even from the woman herself. Clarke feels like she has invaded Lexa’s private space. She’s happy to know more about Lexa, but not under these circumstances.

**

“Clarke.”

Looking up quickly from where she was nodding off next to Anya, Clarke sees her mother striding quickly towards her. Clarke jumps up to meet her halfway. Anya notices the older woman in scrubs and a white lab coat and also makes her way over.

“Is this Lexa’s doctor?” Anya asks Clarke quietly, standing shoulder to shoulder with her.

“No,” Clarke pauses as the woman approaches. “It’s my mother.”

Walking up to Clarke, her mother holds her arms open for a hug. “It’s good to see you, Clarke. You hardly come here anymore—only when you’re volunteering.”

“Well, unfortunately, we aren’t here to volunteer.” Clarke gestures to Anya and says, “Our friend was admitted to the ICU about six hours ago.”

“I heard about her incident when I got out of an emergency surgery.” Holding her hand out to Anya, she says, “I haven’t seen you around before. You must be a new friend. I’m Abby Griffin, and you are?”

“A new friend. Anya Pierce.”

Abby smiles widely. “It’s nice to meet you, Anya.”

“Mom,” Clarke interrupts the pleasantries. “Do you know anything about Lexa’s condition?”

Abby breathes deeply as she says, “Well, I looked at her charts and spoke to her doctor. She really banged her head around in there.” She gestures to the chairs they previously inhabited. After they all take their seats, she continues, “There’s some swelling in her brain because it was jarred around when she fell. There’s no internal bleeding, luckily, and the MRI showed that her brain hasn’t continued to swell even more.”

“What does that mean?” Anya asks, because even with that explanation, she doesn’t know if Lexa will be okay or not.

“It could mean any number of things.” Abby doesn’t want to scare Anya, but she has to be realistic in Lexa’s prognosis. “Lexa won’t die, that much is clear, but the swelling could cause any number of problems. She could have mood swings, loss of her sense of smell, behavioral issues, depression, memory loss, sleep disturbances, lots of things.” Abby frowns. “The only way we can know if she has any of these is for her to wake up.”

None of those things sound good to Anya. “How long until she wakes up?”

Abby shrugs. “We can’t determine that. She has to do that on her own. Her brain has shut the body down temporarily to prevent further injury to itself. She won’t wake up until her brain deems it safe to do so.”

It’s Clarke’s turn for a question. “How long until we can see her?”

“They should be moving her out of the ICU soon. Maybe an hour or so.” Abby stands to leave. “I have to get back to the ER, but I’ll have Susan come get you when Lexa gets moved to a room and you’re free to come see here.”

Anya and Clarke thank her for the help and information.

A silence hangs between them for a few minutes before Anya breaks it with, “This is going to be one long fucking hour.”

Clarke couldn’t agree more.

**

Clarke finally falls asleep because it’s the middle of the night and she can’t help it anymore. Before she’s even aware that she had been asleep, she’s woken up by a light shake of her shoulder.

“Wha-?” Clarke jolts up and rubs her face.

“Clarke, it’s time, baby.”

Looking at Susan with bleary eyes, Clarke asks, “Time for what?”

“Your friend was moved out of the ICU. It’s time for you to go see her.”

Excitedly, Clarke starts to gather her things off the floor. Then she remembers Anya, who appears to be asleep on a small couch across the room. She must be exhausted; Anya had to finish the soccer game as captain once Lexa was taken away. Clarke had asked her how the game went earlier. Anya said that their team had won, but it was a close call without Lexa there to score another goal. After Clarke has slung her bag over her shoulder, she walks over to where Anya is slouched over.

“Anya,” Clarke says quietly, reaching her hand out to touch her shoulder. Before she touches the other girl though, Anya has sprung up from the couch, visibly tense.

“What’s going on?” Anya asks with a voice rough with sleep.

“We’re going to see Lexa. Grab your things.”

Clarke waits for Anya to grab her bag and Lexa’s before they follow Susan to the elevator. Both of them walk with a quick gait, and they know it’s because they’re excited to see Lexa after waiting for an extended period of time.

Clarke thinks about how elevators are the reason she’s in the hospital at all right now. If Clarke had been a few minutes later that day, none of the events of the last few weeks would have happened. She would never have met Lexa. The thought makes Clarke cringe. She’s grown fond of Lexa in the short time that she’s known her. Clarke wouldn’t take back anything—not even the cramped hours spent in that elevator. Even though that wasn’t the best situation to meet someone, Clarke would do over in a heartbeat if that meant that she could be with a conscious Lexa again. Lexa is someone who Clarke feels comfortable with—feels safe with. Clarke isn’t sure how Lexa feels about her, but she hopes that they’re on the same page.

She’ll just have to wait until Lexa wakes up to find out.

**

Room 493. That’s the room where Lexa is lying unconscious with a big, white bandage wrapped around her head. Clarke immediately walks over to one of the chairs at Lexa’s side and sits down, setting her purse on the floor and trying to take in as much of Lexa’s appearance as possible. Anya moves to the chair on the opposite side of the room and throws her stuff down.

They’re both quiet for a moment, neither wanting to break the quiet that shrouds Lexa’s immobile body. The only noise in the room is the beeping of the heart monitor that shows a steady heartbeat and stable vitals.

Anya shakes her head, her eyes filled with something almost akin to wonder. “How can she look so… fine, yet at the same time be so broken?”

Clarke closes her eyes briefly, saying quietly, “She’s broken in ways that we can’t see.” She moves her eyes to study the steady rise and fall of Lexa’s chest. “Isn’t everyone?”

Anya moves her tired eyes to Clarke, with a half smirk. “It’s way too early in the morning to be that deep, blondie.”

Clarke snorts and tilts her head back, closing her eyes again. “You might be right about that.”

It’s quiet for another moment. Clarke isn’t going to sleep, not now that she’s near Lexa. She’s just resting her eyes.

“Do you think she’s going to be okay when she wakes up?”

Clarke looks over at Anya, who’s staring intensely at Lexa, who still refuses to wake. “I’m sure that she’s going to be fine.”

Anya doesn’t look any less worried. “All those things that your mom listed were awful.” Anya clenches her fists. “What if she wakes up and she’s a completely different person? Mood swings and behavioral issues? That isn’t like Lexa at all.”

Shrugging, Clarke answers, “We’ll work through it. Because we’re Lexa’s friends and she deserves people at her side no matter what she’s going through.”

Anya nods, feeling more determined than before. “You’re right.” Anya loves Lexa, so she’s going to stick by her side no matter what happens. That’s what best friends are for.

Clarke slowly scoots forward, toward Lexa’s beside. Before now, Clarke had been too afraid to touch Lexa, scared that she might do more harm than good to the unmoving woman. Carefully, Clarke reaches her hand out toward Lexa’s, running her fingers down Lexa’s rough palm before she fully grabs on. Lexa’s fingers are slightly chilled, and Clarke subconsciously rubs her thumb against Lexa’s knuckles. She looks at Lexa’s face, so peaceful in her rest despite the battle going on in her brain. Clarke tries to keep herself from worrying because she knows there’s nothing she can do to wake Lexa up.

Despite the time, Clarke can’t bring herself to sleep. Now that Lexa’s in front of her looking so peaceful in her sleep, Clarke won’t dare miss the moment where Lexa wakes up. Clarke brings her chair closer to Lexa and props her feet up on the bare end table, getting comfortable for the long wait ahead of her.

As she settles back, she pulls out her phone to send a text that explains Lexa’s condition to Octavia and Lincoln. After she hits send, she looks back over at Anya. The other girl has fallen asleep with her head laying on the edge of Lexa’s bed.

Clarke decides that she’ll take the first watch. She’s going to make damn sure that someone is going to be with Lexa when she wakes up, even if she has to stay awake for a whole week.

**

Anya left a few hours later to go pick up Lexa’s aunt from the airport, leaving Clarke alone with Lexa for a little while.

The doctors had said that maybe playing soft music or reading to Lexa would ease her into waking up, so Clarke had taken it upon herself to search her music library for soft music to play. She chooses one that she thinks that Lexa would like if she was awake. The song has very few lyrics, which Lexa would appreciate.

As M83’s ‘Outro’ plays in the background, Clarke holds Lexa’s hand with one hand and holds a book in her other hand. When Anya left that morning, Octavia had stopped by on her way to work, bringing Clarke a fresh change of clothes, a phone charger, some things to read, Clarke’s sketchbook, and a flower bouquet that she set off to the side.

Clarke is glad for the flowers. The color that they bring breaks up the sterile looking white walls and the colorless, bleak furniture of the room.

Eventually, Clarke has to put the book away because her eyes are starting to get too unfocused to read. She sighs and leans back in her chair, trying to get more comfortable. She had taken a short nap when Anya was still here, but she’s still exhausted.

Lexa is as still as marble in front of Clarke. Deciding to take advantage of the perfectly still model, Clarke lets go of Lexa’s hand and pulls out her sketchbook. Clarke wishes that Lexa’s cheeks had more color in them, like they do when she’s awake. She misses Lexa’s small smiles and bright green eyes. She wonders when she’ll see them again.

Clarke draws without paying too much attention to what she’s doing. She thinks her drawings are best when she lets herself zone out as she looks at her subject. This way she doesn’t nitpick at the tiny details that she gets wrong. She’ll draw what she _really_ sees, instead of just what her eyes show her.

Her mind drifts as her hand dances around the paper. It’s been half a day since Clarke has seen Lexa move of her own accord. Clarke wants desperately for her to wake up because she knows that the longer that Lexa is asleep, the higher the chance for problems arising when Lexa wakes up.

The train of thought just makes Clarke sadder until she finally has to set her sketchbook aside. The sketch is only half done, but Clarke can’t bring herself to finish it. Inside she grabs Lexa’s hand.

“Lexa,” Clarke says quietly. “Please wake up.” She grips onto Lexa’s hand even harder, moving her other hand to Lexa’s face and stroking it gently. “You’ve been asleep for a while now, and I’m getting more afraid for you by the minute.” Clarke sighs. “I don’t know what any of this means. All I know is that I want you to wake up and be okay.” Leaning her head onto Lexa’s shoulder, Clarke lets a few tears slip out of her eyes. “I know that we haven’t been friends for long, but you are too important, too special to be lost to this world. Please, Lexa. I’m begging you.” Clarke holds back a sob. “I’m waiting for you out here. I know you can hear me in there. Come find me.” Kissing Lexa’s cheek softly, she finishes with a broken plea, “Wake up.”

**

Clarke is playing an infuriating game on her phone when Anya walks into Lexa’s hospital room, followed by a woman who isn’t large in stature but fills the room with her presence nevertheless.

Quickly exiting out of her latest game of 1010!, Clarke pops up onto her feet and straightens her shirt, wanting to make a good first impression with Lexa’s aunt for whatever reason. She stretches her hand out to the older woman with a small smile as she introduces herself.

The older woman hesitates for a moment before slowly grabbing onto Clarke’s hand and shaking it, introducing herself with a low, gruff voice. “Indra.”

Clarke nods to Anya as Indra moves past them to stand by Lexa’s side. The three of them are quiet as they take in the sight of Lexa’s form.

“Clarke?”

Clarke tries to hide the surprise at being directly addressed by Indra off her face. “Yes?”

“Would you mind giving Anya and me some time to talk?”

“Oh.” Clarke moves to grab her stuff. “Sure. Yeah. No problem.”

Indra nods at Clarke. “Thanks.”

When Clarke moves toward the door, Anya reaches out for her arm. “Hey, are you going home?”

With a quick nod, Clarke says, “Yeah, I was going to shower and nap for a few hours. Why? Do you need something?”

Anya searches through her bag for a minute before producing a key, which she holds out to Clarke. “Would you mind letting Gustus out? I let him out quickly last night, so he’s going to need a walk or something to get the energy out of that huge body of his. If you don’t want to, I’ll go in an hour or so, but I figured it would be more efficient if you did it. Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” Clarke says, holding her hand out to grab the spare key to Lexa’s apartment. A walk would do her some good. Maybe it would clear her head out.

“Thanks. His leash is hanging near the door on a hook. You can’t miss it. Can you feed him too? There’s a chart on the food container in the pantry.”

Clarke nods as she puts the key into her bag. “I know where it is. Do you want me to just leave the key under the mat?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Anya gives Clarke a small smile and a quiet thanks as she turns to go.

Clarke pauses in the doorway, turning back to get one last look at Lexa. She’s so beautiful, even in the harsh fluorescent lights.

As she leaves the hospital, Clarke realizes how badly she doesn’t want to leave. She’ll be devastated if Lexa wakes up without her there to see it, but at the same time, she knows that it’s best that Lexa wakes up soon, whether she’s there to see it or not. Clarke feels guilty for hoping that Lexa waits to wake up until she’s there.

Clarke feels guilty the whole drive home.

**

When Clarke walks into Lexa’s apartment, Gus runs to meet her at the door, tail wagging wildly in his excitement. Gus soon sees that it isn’t Lexa at the door, and his excitement fades fractionally.

She grabs his leash and a ball to throw at the park. When she takes him down to the lobby, she has to keep him from smothering every person that they come across. Soon enough, they make it outside into the midday heat.

Luckily the park is empty when they arrive, so she lets Gus off his leash, but doesn’t let him stray too far. She throws the ball for him and he chases after it with as much speed and agility as he can.

They stay at the park for a while because Clarke enjoys the slight breeze the wind allows and the sound of Gus panting when he drops the slobbery ball at her feet. On the walk home, Clarke sees that she missed a few messages. One from her mom, one from Bellamy, and one from Monty. There are two from Octavia. And surprisingly, there is a text from Raven saying that she heard that Lexa was in the hospital and to let her know if there was anything she could do to help. Clarke wonders who told Raven about Lexa’s situation. She isn’t sure who in her friend group kept the mechanic up to speed.

Clarke takes Gus back to Lexa’s apartment, making sure that he has food, fresh water, and toys out to chew on. When she leaves, she gives the huge dog a hug and a kiss, promising him that she’ll stop by before she heads back to the hospital.

She takes the stairs to her apartment and walks directly to her shower. She peels her gross clothes off her body while she waits for the water to heat up. When it’s almost too hot, she gets in. Clarke loves taking showers so hot that they leave her skin pink; it makes her feel clean. She lets the hot water run over her shoulders, watching the steam roll off in waves. Slowly, Clarke feels her body start to relax.

She climbs out of the shower and with her hair still dripping wet, she climbs into her bed. Clarke can’t be bothered to put on clothes. Her exhaustion quickly takes ahold of her and sleep comes quickly.

**

Clarke wakes up several hours later with hair matted in several different directions.

She groans as she climbs out of bed and searches for her phone. She opens up her texts and quickly sends one out to a newly acquired contact.

**6:22 PM**  
Lexa’s Cute Elevator Blondie  
Have you and Indra eaten  
dinner yet?

 **6:23 PM**  
**Anya Pierce  
** Does a bag of Chex Mix count?

 **6:23 PM**  
Lexa’s Cute Elevator Blondie  
Absolutely not.

 **6:23 PM**  
**Anya Pierce  
** Then I’m going to go with a no.

 **6:24 PM**  
Lexa’s Cute Elevator Blondie  
I’ll pick you guys up something on my  
way to the hospital. What do you  
want to eat?

 **6:24 PM**  
**Anya Pierce  
** Anything edible.

 **6:25 PM**  
Lexa’s Cute Elevator Blondie  
Are either of you a vegetarian?

 **6:26 PM**  
**Anya Pierce  
** Fuck no. I don’t have time for that.

 **6:27 PM**  
Lexa’s Cute Elevator Blondie  
Note taken. I’ll be there in 30.

 **6:28 PM**  
**Anya Pierce  
** Hey.

 **6:30 PM**  
**Anya Pierce  
** Thanks.

 **6:31 PM**  
Lexa’s Cute Elevator Blondie  
Not a problem :)

 

Clarke throws on a comfortable outfit and grabs her bag that’s stuffed to the brim of things to keep her busy at the hospital. On her way down to the lobby, she stops by Lexa’s to check on Gus for a few minutes. After he’s had a sufficient amount of petting, Clarke gives him another hug and kiss and heads out.

As promised, she picks up food for the three of them on her way to the hospital, and judging by the grateful look on Anya’s face as she smells the take out, it was much needed and appreciated. Indra is less open in her expression, but her eyes soften as Clarke passes her a container of rice. A quick thanks is given to Clarke by both women. Clarke waves off their thanks with a quick smile.

Clarke walks to the end table next to Lexa’s bed and sets down the other thing she stopped for on the way to the hospital. It’s a large bouquet of flowers that Clarke arranged herself. It’s mostly different plants and flowers that are various shades of green—Lexa’s favorite color. There are a few white and blue flowers thrown in to offset the mass of green. If either Indra or Anya finds it excessive, neither of them express it.

Soon the room is quiet as the three of them chow down on their Chinese food. They make small talk after a few minutes of soft chewing. Clarke draws a quiet laugh out of Indra eventually, which makes her smile widely.

Clarke knows that their situation isn’t perfect. She knows that the only reason that these women are all together is because of a tragedy, but she’s starting to come to terms with it. She knows that Lexa is their anchor—their tether. She knows that as soon as Lexa’s better, these people will likely want nothing to do with her. She knows these things.

But she also knows that while they’re here, she’s going to damn well try to keep everyone from falling apart.

**

The next day is full of MRIs and CAT scans for Lexa. The motionless woman is wheeled in and out of the room all day as the perplexed doctors try to figure out why she still hasn’t woken up yet.

Everything comes back fine. Lexa’s brain hasn’t swollen up any more than when she was first admitted into the hospital. In fact, the swelling has gone down some. The pressure on her skull from her brain is minimal and non-threatening. There still isn’t any internal bleeding.

The doctors are at a loss. No one knows why Lexa hasn’t woken up yet. They try to tell the women that Lexa will be okay when she wakes up despite any side effects she might have, but everyone is doubtful.

Clarke’s worry increases with every passing hour. Though Anya and Indra wouldn’t say it out loud, Clarke can see the worry on their faces too.

**

It’s been three days. Clarke doesn’t know what to do with herself anymore. She can’t remember the last time that she slept more than three hours at a time. She’s just fucking desperate at this point—for Lexa to wake up, for someone to take her mind off the hospital, for something to change. Any sort of change will give Clarke life at this point. She’s been living off of shitty coffee and snacks from the gift shop, and Clarke can’t even keep time straight in her head anymore. All she knows is that she and Anya have become bonded in a weird alliance because they both know that they’re going delirious in room 493.

Since Anya promised to call as soon as a change appeared in Lexa, Indra decided that she would stay at Lexa’s apartment. She said it was so that she could take care of Gustus while they were at the hospital, but Clarke thinks that Indra couldn’t handle the hospital atmosphere and the stress of an immobile Lexa. Clarke understands.

She can’t handle the stress either.

Clarke is staring at Lexa’s face with barely focused eyes when she sees it. At first she thinks that she imagined it in her budding insanity.

But then it happens again and she knows that it’s real. She’s not imagining it.

Lexa’s eyes flutter and her hand twitches in Clarke’s. Clarke gasps slightly as she leans forward and grips roughly onto Lexa’s flexing fingers.

Finally, Lexa eyes open all the way, revealing confusion in her green irises. Clarke is so happy to finally see that Lexa is awake, even though Clarke knows that Lexa will likely be confused and dizzy. The past few days have really stressed Clarke out, but all the time at the hospital was worth it because Clarke gets to see Lexa’s beautiful green eyes. Getting to be there when Lexa wakes up is all Clarke has wanted for days.

But now that she’s awake, Clarke can’t bring herself to speak. She tells herself that the reason that she doesn’t speak is because she doesn’t want to overwhelm Lexa. Secretly, she knows it’s because she doesn’t know what to say. She’s been anticipating this moment for days, and now that it’s finally here, everything has gone out the window.

Anya notices the change in Lexa and excitedly moves to sit in the chair on the other side of bed. “Hey, bud. How’re you feeling?” Without Lexa noticing, Anya presses the ‘Call Nurse’ button on the side rail of the bed.

Lexa’s eyebrows scrunch together. “I have the worst motherfucking headache of the century.” She takes a moment to look around the room, not noticing Clarke. “Where am I? The room is spinning a little bit.” With wide eyes, Lexa looks at Anya and asks, “Am I drunk?” Reaching her empty hand up to touch her head and running her fingers over the bandage on her forehead, she asks, “Are these stitches?”

“No, Lexa, you aren’t drunk, but yes, those are stitches. At the last game, you busted your head open. On _two_ defending players.”

Lexa gets a dopey smile on her face. “Hell yeah. Did I take them down with me?”

Giving a short laugh, Anya shakes her head. “Lex, no.” Taking a deep breath, she says, “You’ve practically been in a coma for days.”

“Well, did we at least beat the Penguins?”

Anya shakes her head. “Lexa, what are you talking about? That game was like, a month ago. We were playing against the Mountaineers.”

“What do you mean, the Mountaineers? That game isn’t for another month or so, Anya.”

Anya looks at Clarke and raises her eyebrows. There’s a slight look of fear in her eyes.

This is when Lexa decides to look to her left and take in the woman that has been holding her hand for the past few days.

Again, Lexa’s lovely green eyes get a look of confusion in them. Then she opens her mouth to speak.

“I don’t want to offend a cute girl,” Lexa starts, clearly feeling the effects of her pain medication. She smiles lazily at Clarke and finishes with, “But who are you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can follow me, ask me questions, give me feedback, and yell obsinities at me at: theprettiestbroom.tumblr.com


	6. Your Time Will Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa looks at Clarke with glassy green eyes and asks, “Am I okay?”
> 
> Hesitantly, Clarke leans forward and lays her hand on Lexa’s forearm. “Yeah, Lexa, you’re going to be fine.”
> 
> Nodding slowly, Lexa looks away as she asks, “How much have I forgotten?”
> 
> Clarke gives a small shrug. “It’s hard to say. I don’t know exactly how much, but I’d say at least a month of your memory is gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of this chapter comes from 'Amsterdam' by the Imagine Dragons.
> 
> My tumblr is: theprettiestbroom.tumblr.com

Anya’s eyes go wide. “Lex.” When Lexa lazily rolls her head towards her, Anya asks, “Do you not remember who she is?”

“Who? The cute blonde that’s holding my hand?” Lexa shrugs as Clarke quickly slides her hand out of Lexa’s, trying not to show how hurt she’s feeling on her face. “Am I supposed to?” Looking over at Clarke with a look of slight confusion, she quickly says, “No offense, cutie.”

Clarke shakes her head, not letting the tears that sting the back of her eyes slip out. “No, don’t worry about it. It’s okay.” Running her newly freed hand through her hair, Clarke says, “This isn’t about me. This is about you.”

“Am I missing something?” Lexa asks, her confusion mounting.

Anya sighs as she says, “Yeah, about a month of memories, bud.”

“What?” Lexa asks, with panic in her voice.

A nurse, wearing scrubs that are too brightly colored and happy for this moment, walks in before Lexa can get any answers. The nurse asks Lexa some questions and promises to be back shortly with a doctor and the proper medicines for the pain she’s feeling in her head.

Anya watches the nurse walk toward the door. She quickly gets up and points to the door and says, “I’m going to step out and make a call really quickly. I’ll be back.”

When she leaves, Clarke and Lexa are alone, and Clarke has no idea what to say. Everything that Clarke thought she might say to Lexa when she woke up has escaped her.

Lexa looks at Clarke with glassy green eyes and asks, “Am I okay?”

Hesitantly, Clarke leans forward and lays her hand on Lexa’s forearm. “Yeah, Lexa, you’re going to be fine.”

Nodding slowly, Lexa looks away as she asks, “How much have I forgotten?”

Clarke gives a small shrug. “It’s hard to say. I don’t know exactly how much, but I’d say at least a month of your memory is gone.”

Again, Lexa nods. “Okay.” She tries to swallow the lump in her throat. “Where do you come in? Who are you?”

“Right, yeah.” Clarke takes her hand off Lexa’s arm and holds in out for Lexa to shake, which is awkward due to the many tubes and wires attached to her arms and body. “I’m Clarke. Clarke Griffin.” She suppresses the urge to add ‘of apartment 16A’ to the end of her name. Lexa won’t understand that joke anymore.

As they shake hands, Lexa takes in as much of the blonde as possible. She can feel rough callouses on her palm, and Lexa wonders how she got them. Looking further, Lexa thinks that the blonde is gorgeous, ridiculously so. Even though the other woman is in baggy sweats and a beat up t-shirt, she has radiant blue eyes. She’s bright and soft, where Lexa is dark and sharp. Lexa thinks that she could like this woman. Very much.

Anya comes in and sees the couple shaking hands. Smiling widely, she says, “Reintroducing yourself to your girlfriend, Lex?”

With wide eyes, Lexa snaps her head to face Clarke. “You’re my girlfriend?” Her voice has an obvious tone of anxiety.

Shooting Anya a death glare, which Anya just shrugs at, Clarke is quick to settle Lexa’s fears. “No, I’m not your girlfriend.” Clarke shyly ducks her eyes as she says, “Well, not yet anyways.”

Anya snorts. “You were one step away from dating; the only thing you guys had left to do was to actually ask each other out.”

Lexa stares at the ceiling, trying to make the slight blush in her cheeks die down. “I’m sorry I don’t remember you then.”

“Don’t be,” Clarke starts, shaking her head. “This isn’t your fault, Lexa. There was nothing you could have done to prevent this from happening.”

Lexa nods, still looking at the ceiling. “What happens now?” Lexa asks with trepidation in her voice.

Anya says, “Well, the doctor is on her way here. I guess she’ll give us more information and then hopefully we can get out of here. Oh, and Indra should be here soon.”

This pulls Lexa’s eyes off the ceiling. With crinkled eyebrows, Lexa asks, “Indra? Why is she in town?”

Anya gives a barking laugh. “Because you’ve been unconscious for days! Your brain swelled up, and you could have been seriously injured! We had no idea when you were going to wake up or if you were going to be okay when you woke up, so I called her to let her know that her niece was in a fucking coma.”

Lexa rolls her eyes at Anya. “Now I’m sure you got her worried. I feel fine, Anya. I’m ready to get out of here.”

“You and me both, kid, but we have to wait for you to be cleared first.”

When Anya calls Lexa ‘kid,’ she bristles, settling Anya with a dark glare. Anya doesn’t look frightened by Lexa at all.

Indra arrives shortly after that, showing the most emotion that Clarke has ever seen the older woman express. There’s a look of pure happiness and relief on her face as she walks into the room and sees Lexa awake and moving.

Lexa is also happy to see Indra, but she seems like she’s trying to control the excitement on her face. While they wait for the doctor, Lexa catches up with Indra with interest clearly written on her face. Clarke keeps quiet, letting them chat as she wonders how long it’s been since they’ve seen each other.

When Lexa’s doctor finally does arrive to the room, Clarke leaves to go get a coffee, because she feels like she’s intruding on a moment she shouldn’t be present for.

She takes a seat with her coffee in the cafeteria, trying to give Lexa and the doctor some time to go over all the things that she needs to know. Clarke sends a text to Octavia, telling her that Lexa woke up and seems to be alright. Afterwards, she starts to scroll through her phone, not really paying any attention to all the posts on her various social media websites.

Her phone starts to vibrate in her hand, pulling her from her thoughts of Lexa. She quickly answers the call before it goes to voicemail.

“Hey, Octavia.”

“Clarke Griffin, why didn’t you call me the second she woke up?”

“Because we were busy dealing with a woozy, disoriented person, O. I didn’t have a free second.”

“Tell me all about it! Did you guys make out already?”

“No, Octavia, we did not make out.”

“Why not?!”

Clarke sighs. She didn’t really want to go into this over the phone, but now it seems like she has no choice. “She doesn’t know who I am.”

There’s a long pause on the other end of the line. “What?”

“She doesn’t remember me. She forgot me.”

“How could that happen?”

Clarke shrugs even though Octavia can’t see her. “Her brain was swollen. Her memory must have been affected by the swelling, and now she’s forgotten about a month’s worth of memories.”

“A month?”

With a nod and a deep breath, Clarke responds with, “Yeah.”

“A whole month of Clarke.”

Clarke is struggling. The tears in her eyes are threatening to spill out. “Everything of me.”

“I’m so sorry, Clarke.”

“Me too, O. Me too.”

Octavia rubs her temples, trying to figure out how she can help her best friend. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know yet. Probably just move on.” Clarke remembers the panic on Lexa’s face at the mention of Clarke being her girlfriend. “She seemed freaked out by me, so I’m thinking that this means that she wants nothing to do with me.”

“Clarke, no.” Octavia wants to comfort her friend, but she doesn’t know what to say. “I’m sure that she was just overwhelmed by everything that was going on.”

“Maybe. I guess I’ll just give her some space.”

“That might be best for now.” Octavia pauses before saying, “But Clarke? Lexa was into you. She’ll come back to you. I feel it.”

“Thanks, O.” Clarke leans her head back with her eyes closed. “I didn’t know that I needed this.”

“I here for you, Clarke. No matter what. I love you.”

“I love you too, O. You’re the best.”

Clarke can almost hear the smirk on Octavia’s face as she snorts and says, “I know.”

When Clarke hangs up the phone, she feels better—more reassured. She feels like she has a chance. She feels up to the task of winning Lexa’s attention back. Clarke can’t force Lexa to remember her, but Clarke can give her new memories to hang on to.

And that’s exactly what Clarke will do.

**

When Clarke heads back to the room to grab her stuff, she finds out that Lexa won’t be released from the hospital for at least another 24 hours. She has to stay just a little longer because the doctors want to be sure that her brain isn’t swollen to a dangerous size. They’re all happy at the prospects of leaving, so this is great news—until they try to figure out the logistics of how to get Lexa home from the hospital.

Apparently Anya has a class that takes attendance, and she’s out of days to skip, so she has to go back to class. Since Anya has to take her car to campus, Indra is without a way to get to Lexa because she doesn’t have a car to drive in town, and she doesn’t want to rent a car for just one day. This leaves Clarke.

“I’ll pick her up.” Clarke stands near the door, wringing her hands.

Anya looks over to her with concerned eyes and asks, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I only have one class in the morning to go to, but I’m free in the afternoon, which is likely when she’ll be discharged…” Clarke trails off, not wanting to sound too desperate. She turns to Lexa, whose eyes are full of anticipation, and shrugs. “As long as that’s okay with you?” Giving a short laugh, she says, “I mean, I’ve already driven with you before, and you didn’t seem to hate my driving too much then.”

Lexa gives a small nod. “Okay.” She clears her throat. “It’s a date.”

Clarke turns toward the door to leave, but not before tossing some words over her shoulder. “Not yet.” A wink. “I have to win you back first.”

The look on Lexa’s face as she struts out the door makes Clarke think that Lexa is as open to the idea of relearning each other as she is.

**

Before Clarke heads into her apartment for the night, she stops by Lexa’s apartment to take Gustus out. Clarke has become the designated caretaker of the dog since it’s the most convenient for her to stop by Lexa’s apartment.

As she unlocks the door, Gus jumps off his favorite spot on the couch and runs to greet her. When she walks in, she gets tackled by the wiggling dog and smothered in kisses.

“Hey, bud!” She talks to him as she scratches his neck just the way he likes. “I have some great news for us! Lexa’s coming home soon! She’ll be home tomorrow, Gus. Can you believe it?” The dog gets excited by the tone of her voice and bounces around her happily. “I know! I’m happy too, Gus. She’s going to be just fine, and she’s coming home to see you.”

Gus is so excited by Clarke that he quickly runs around the couch and back, barking a few times for emphasis. Clarke laughs at his antics and reaches for his leash, ushering him toward the door. She’s going to take him out quickly tonight and then take him on a longer walk in the morning.

As Gus happily trots along next to Clarke, sniffing things every so often, Clarke sighs happily. She loves Gus. He’s one of the sweetest dogs she has ever met.

_Maybe I should get a dog_ , she thinks.

The only thing stopping her from going to an animal shelter to find a dog is that she’s got a lot on her plate right now. She has to get her priorities straight.

First: Lexa. Second: Dog.

**

Clarke can’t focus. She’s in class and supposed to be sketching a landscape from memory, but all she can think of is Lexa. How she’s going to see Lexa after she leaves this classroom. How eager she is to see Lexa, even though she saw her less than 24 hours ago. How Lexa seemed excited by the thought of Clarke coming to take her home.

She needs to pay attention, but she can’t make herself stay on task. Her class is halfway over when her phone buzzes. She pulls it out of her bag and subtly tries to check her messages; she doesn’t want to disturb any of the other student who are working on their pieces.

 

**9:32 AM**  
 **Lexa Woods**  
I figured I would have your number  
in my phone if we were… involved.

**9:32 AM**  
 **Lexa Woods**  
I just wanted to let you know that  
they said I would be released around  
noon.

**9:32 AM**  
 **Lexa Woods**  
Are you still okay with picking  
me up?

**9:33 AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin of apartment 16A**  
Of course! I’ll be there around  
noon. Do you want me to meet  
you at your room?

**9:35 AM**  
 **Lexa Woods**  
Sounds good.

 

Clarke couldn’t focus before, but now she knows that she’s not even going to try to pay attention. Her world is too Lexa centric for the moment.

**

Lexa has to get one last head scan in the morning to ensure that it’s safe for her to leave the hospital’s care. She lays as still as possible while the machine makes whirring noises and takes pictures of her insides. _This would be a lot easier while unconscious_ , she thinks darkly. She doesn’t have anything to keep her busy but her thoughts. Her thoughts all revolve around a certain blonde mystery as of late.

While she’s stuck laying on an uncomfortable slab, Lexa thinks that she wouldn’t mind spending more time around Clarke. Even though they’ve technically already gotten to know each other, Lexa can’t remember anything about the woman except that her blue eyes are some of the most intoxicating eyes that she’s ever had the privilege of looking into.

Lexa wonders how she met this Clarke Griffin. She was trying to place Clarke’s face all night, wondering if they have a class together or if they’re in the same club, but Lexa can’t seem to figure out where she could know her from.

Thinking back to the text exchange from earlier, Lexa wonders why Clarke is saved in her phone as ‘Clarke Griffin of apartment 16A’ with tiny fire emojis surrounding her name. Now, Lexa doesn’t disagree with the emojis—Clarke _is_ hot—but she can’t see herself typing that into her phone. Lexa isn’t really one for emojis. She also doesn’t know why she would tack on where Clarke lives. Does Lexa often forget where Clarke lives or something? She honestly has no idea. She’s confused about a lot of things surrounding Clarke these days.

Luckily, she has the opportunity to clear up some of these mysteries in just a few hours.

**

Clarke gives a quick knock on the door that has led to Lexa for days before walking all the way into the room. Immediately, she hears a quiet curse come from inside the room.

“Shit,” Lexa says, pulling her pants up the rest of the way and trying to button them while quickly turning around to face away from Clarke.

Clarke doesn’t realize what she’s walked in on until it’s too late. She too turns to face the wall opposite of a changing Lexa. “Fuck. Lexa, I’m sorry.” She runs her hands through her hair and says, “These past few days, I’ve just gotten used to… you know. You being stationary. In the bed. Clothed.”

Lexa gives a small snort and finishes dressing, signaling to Clarke that it’s okay to turn around again. She sits on the bed and shrugs at Clarke’s words. “It’s not like you haven’t seen it before.”

Clarke raises her eyebrows. “I’m sorry, but what?”

Gesturing to herself, Lexa says, “My body. You’ve seen it before, I’m sure.”

With wide eyes, Clarke slowly shakes her head. “I know that you bumped your head and lost some memories, but did your brain also happen to make up some memories while it was at it? Because that has never happened.”

Lexa raises an eyebrow. “Wha—?” She bites her lip quickly before asking, “We never…?” She moves her hand back and forth, gesturing at both of their bodies.

“No.” Clarke shakes her head firmly.

“Oh. Good to know.” Lexa slowly nods her head and looks away toward the blank wall. “I’m going to have to murder Anya now.”

Clarke barks out a laugh, despite the situation. “Did she tell you that we had sex?”

Lexa closes her eyes and bows her head. “I am now realizing that a lot of things that Anya told me last night were a bit ridiculous.”

“What? The thought of having sex with me is ridiculous?”

Lexa looks up quickly, eyes wide. “No, of course not.”

“So you’re saying that I seem easy.”

“ _No_.” Lexa shakes her head vehemently and holds her hands up defensively. “I just—Anya said that… She was messing with—”

“Lexa,” Clarke says, halting Lexa’s rambling speech. “I’m kidding. Don’t worry about it. We’re fine.”

Lexa nods and tries to duck her head a little to hide the light blush she feels in her cheeks.

Clarke points at the door. “Are you ready to go sign the papers and get out of here?”

Nodding again, Lexa reaches to pick up her bulky soccer bag off the floor. Before she gets to it though, she sees another hand reaching down to take it.

“Let me get it,” Clarke says, swinging the large bag over her shoulder before Lexa has a chance to protest. “You’ve been knocked out in the hospital for a few days. The least I can do is carry your stuff out for you.”

Lexa leads the way out the door, walking to the nurses’ station down the hall. She talks to a nurse for a few minutes before she’s handed papers to sign that will lead to her release from this godforsaken place. Clarke waits off to the side with all their stuff; she doesn’t want to cramp Lexa.

Then, finally, they walk out the front doors of the hospital and Lexa breathes in her first breath of fresh air with a huge grin.

“Feel good to get outside after a few days?” Clarke asks, leading the way the parking garage.

Lexa looks over with a small smile, slightly embarrassed at being caught enjoying herself so openly. She gives a small nod as her answer.

Clarke smiles back widely, and Lexa feels her heart lift even more. She tells herself that she isn’t allowed to get too attached to a woman that she hardly knows. Then she looks back at the smiling blonde, who is struggling to carry Lexa’s stuff but refuses to complain about it hurting her shoulder, and she knows that for now, she’s in for the long haul.

**

Once Lexa’s bag is loaded into the car, Clarke drops into the front seat and fiddles with her phone for a moment. When she’s satisfied at the music that starts to play, she pulls out of her parking spot and points them toward home.

“Who’s this artist of this song?” Lexa asks because she finds herself actually enjoying the music.

Without thinking, Clarke says, “I already recommended her to you! It’s Halsey, Lexa.” At Lexa’s blank stare and raised eyebrows, Clarke realizes her mistake. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. My bad.” Clarke shakes her head at herself, disappointed that she’s already fucking up. Lexa’s only been awake for twenty-four hours, for god’s sake.

“Before your accident,” Clarke starts with an apologetic tone, “we kind of had this thing going where I would recommend a song to you, and you would pretend to hate it, but really you know deep down inside you that I’m a music genius and have the best taste.”

Lexa doesn’t seem convinced. “I actually listened to your recommendations?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m sure of it.” Clarke smiles, pointing to the phone in Lexa’s hand and saying, “Check it. I know for a fact that there’s Arctic Monkeys’ songs on there.”

“Arctic Monkeys?” Lexa screws her face up in disgust. “There’s no way a band with a name like that has found its way onto my phone.”

“If you don’t believe me, check it!”

Lexa types in her password and clicks on her music. She sees that she has a new playlist that she doesn’t remember making. The new playlist is comprised of songs that Lexa has never heard of. Including the so called ‘Arctic Monkeys.’

“Well,” Lexa says, clucking her tongue as she scrolls through the playlist of unfamiliar music. “I believe you now.”

Clarke laughs heartily at Lexa’s discovery. “If it makes you feel any better, you get to rediscover your love for all these songs.”

Looking at Clarke’s shining eyes and smiling mouth as she focuses on the road, Lexa thinks that she’s already rediscovering a lot of things.

**

When they reach the apartment building, Clarke hops out and, again, grabs Lexa’s soccer bag.

Lexa is quick to reach out a hand to stop her. “Oh, no. I can’t make you walk all the way to my apartment carrying that.” Trying to remove the bag from Clarke, Lexa says, “You don’t even have to come up at all. Really, driving me home was too much effort on your part in the first place.”

Clarke leans against the car for a second, letting a smile consume her mouth. “First off, you’re forgetting that even though you don’t know who I am, I still care about you, so driving you home from the _hospital_ , where you were in a small _coma_ , is not a big deal. Second, I live here too, Lexa.”

“Oh,” Lexa mumbles, unsure how to proceed. “Okay.” Lexa clears her throat as Clarke chuckles and scoots past her, leading the way to their building and leaving Lexa trailing behind her in the dust.

They make it to the elevator and as the doors close around them, Clarke feels the need to share their past with Lexa. “This is actually where we met.”

Lexa raises an eyebrow. “In this building?”

Clarke shakes her head and answers with, “No. Well, yes, technically. But more specifically, in this elevator.” Laughing, Clarke says, “Literally this particular elevator. Elevator number four.”

“Why do you know that?” Lexa frowns as they approach her floor.

“Because I think I went partially insane that day!”

The elevator dings as the doors open to Lexa’s floor. Before Lexa can walk out, Clarke throws a hand across the door’s threshold.

“Lexa,” she says in a low voice. “We were stuck in this fucking elevator for _seven hours_. Seven. That’s how we met.”

Lexa gulps, trying not to notice the way that Clarke’s arm brushes against her chest. “That sounds terrible.”

“It was, Lexa. It really was.” Clarke stares Lexa down for a few more seconds before gracing her with a brief smile and moving out of the way.

They walk down the hallway together, pausing outside of Lexa’s door. When she opens it, she wordlessly invites Clarke inside.

When Gustus hears the pair enter, he bolts toward them and, in his boundless excitement, knocks them over onto the floor in front of the door with his huge body.

Clarke is laughing at Gustus, who is alternating between licking both women’s faces, while Lexa apologizes relentlessly as she tries to separate their bodies.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve been pulled around by your dog too many times in the last few days to care anymore. Just make sure he doesn’t lick the stitches on your head.”

Confused at Clarke’s first comment, Lexa shifts her body around on the floor so that she’s sitting and facing the blonde. “What do you mean?”

Clarke scrunches her eyebrows together. “You have stitches on your head, Lexa, and he shouldn’t get them dirty. Right here,” she says, pointing to the general area of Lexa’s wound.

Lexa shakes her head. “No, not that. I remember that. What do you mean when you say that Gus has been pulling you around lately?”

Shrugging, Clarke responds with, “I’ve been feeding and walking your dog while you’ve been unconscious in the hospital. He’s a big guy, so he pulls me around sometimes. By the way, I left your spare key under your doormat.”

“You’re the one who has been taking care of Gustus?” Lexa looks dumfounded. “I just assumed it was Anya.” Groaning as Gustus continues to pester the two with kisses, she says, “I’m sorry that you had to do that. You really didn’t have to take on the responsibility of my dog. Anya would have managed it.”

“It’s really not a big deal since I live just a few floors away. Plus, he isn’t bad company.”

The two spend a few more minutes just sitting on the floor with Gus, giving him all the love, attention, and neck scratches that he desires. They can’t help but laugh at how his entire body is wiggling back and forth with the swing of his tail.

Going back to their earlier conversation, Lexa can’t help but ask, “We were really stuck in that elevator for seven hours?”

Clarke gives a slow nod. “Yeah.” She pets Gus a few more times before remembering something and whipping out her phone. “Oh! I have some proof!”

“Proof of what?” Lexa is a little bit lost, and she’s sure that the confusion is shown on her face.

“That we were in the elevator together. Look.” Clarke holds out her phone and shows Lexa a picture.

The picture is of the two of them sitting on the floor of the aforementioned elevator, but Clarke is holding up a sign that says: “I truly am stuck in this elevator and am actively fucking over my best friend. I am pleading for Octavia’s forgiveness, even though I am a lowly pleb who is beneath her.” Below that is a small message that reads: “Also, the girl I’m stuck with is ridiculously hot. Like, damn. She’s fine. *insert many fire emojis*”

Lexa looks over at Clarke with a raised eyebrow after she reads the bottom part of the sign. She gets a little excited by knowing that Clarke thinks that she’s attractive, but she hides it well.

Closing her eyes with a sigh, Clarke says, “Yeah, I forgot about the sign. That’s embarrassing.” Reopening her blue eyes, Clarke gives a small laugh. “I swear that there’s a reason behind it.” She proceeds to explain the entire situation to Lexa—even Octavia’s threatening texts.

“Wait,” Lexa is starting to put together a few puzzle pieces. “Is that why your name in my phone has fire emojis? Because I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t do that.”

Clarke barks out a laugh. “No, you didn’t do it. I did that.” With another small laugh, she says, “I put my name in your phone, and you put yours in my phone. Yours also has fire around it. It kind of became a joke between us after my friend made me write that shit out.”

“Seems like I have a lot of things to learn about us, Clarke.” Lexa looks down, trying to hide a shy smile.

“Maybe you do.” Clarke gives Lexa a small smile as she goes to stand up, leaving Lexa’s bag, which had still been hanging on her shoulder, sitting on the floor.

Lexa walks her to the door, giving Clarke a quiet thanks for driving her home.

“It wasn’t a big deal, Lexa. If you need anything, let me know. I’m always available.”

Lexa nods, surprised by the sincerity in the other woman’s voice. Again, she says, “Thank you, Clarke.”

Clarke walks out the door, leaving Lexa alone in her apartment. Before this moment, Lexa has always been introverted, never really wanting people coming over to her apartment because it feels like they’re invading her personal space. But now that Clarke is gone, Lexa has never felt so lonely in her own apartment.

**

The next morning when Lexa wakes up early to take Gus for a walk, she grabs her earbuds and puts them in as they walk out the door. As she’s deciding what to listen to, she remembers that she has that playlist of new music from Clarke. It’s an extensive playlist, comprised of at least twenty-five songs.

When Clarke left her apartment last night, Lexa had scrolled through all the text messages that they had sent each other over the past few weeks. A lot of the texts from Clarke were music recommendations, which Lexa would promise to check out. Some texts were pictures that Clarke had screenshotted from Snapchat and sent to Lexa because she thought they were hilarious; they were mostly pictures of her friends (Lexa assumes) that Clarke had doodled over and turned them into princesses, monsters, and even one impressive dragon.

As she takes Gus down the elevator, she clicks on the first song in her playlist by Clarke. It’s an Imagine Dragons’ song called ‘Amsterdam.’ As the playlist goes on, Lexa realizes quickly that all of the songs are pretty different from each other, but Lexa likes all of them for different reasons. She listens to the entire playlist while on her walk with Gustus, and she plays it again while she makes breakfast in the kitchen.

Lexa finds herself humming along to the songs and shaking her hips to the beat. She’s starting to get a feel for the music—for Clarke’s taste.

And all she knows is that she wants more.

**

Clarke wakes up to the sound of her phone going off.

“Fuck,” she groans, stretching an arm out to her nightstand to grab her phone. “It’s too early to be awake on my day off.”

When she sees who the text is from, she immediately wakes up.

It’s Lexa.

 

**9:47 AM**  
 **Lexa Woods**  
You wouldn’t happen to have  
more music recommendations,  
would you?

 

Not what Clarke was expecting, but whatever. She’ll take whatever contact with Lexa that she can get.

 

**9:49 AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin of apartment 16A**  
So you admit that you like my  
music, huh?

**9:50 AM**  
 **Lexa Woods**  
Maybe.

**9:50 AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin of apartment 16A**  
“Maybe” isn’t doing it for me. I  
only work for “Yes.”

**9:55 AM**  
 **Lexa Woods**  
Fine.

**9:55 AM**  
 **Lexa Woods**  
Yes.

**9:56 AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin of apartment 16A**  
Thank you ;)

**9:56 AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin of apartment 16A**  
Any specific kind of music?

**9:57 AM**  
 **Lexa Woods**  
Not really. Just stuff like the songs  
you’ve already given to me.

**9:57 AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin of apartment 16A**  
Hm.

**9:59 AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin of apartment 16A**  
How about we talk about it over dinner?

Clarke goes for it. She doesn’t want to push Lexa, but she also doesn’t want to sit around and let Lexa slip out of her grasp.

 

**10:00 AM**  
 **Lexa Woods**  
Are you asking me out?

 

Lexa is surprised by Clarke’s text. She doesn’t want to assume it’s a date, but she thinks that maybe that’s what she really wants it to be. A date with her mystery blonde.

 

**10:00 AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin of apartment 16A**  
Is it too early for that? With your  
memory being gone and all?

**10:01 AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin of apartment 16A**  
If I crossed a line, you don’t have  
to feel obligated to say yes.

 

Lexa is nervous as hell, but she knows what she wants to do. So she does it.

**10:03 AM** **  
**Lexa Woods**  
** Yes.

**10:03 AM** **  
**Lexa Woods****  
Let’s do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can follow me, ask me questions, give me feedback, and yell obsinities at me at: theprettiestbroom.tumblr.com
> 
> I made a companion playlist for this fic over on 8tracks. You can find it at: 8tracks.com/theprettiestbroom/i-just-want-you-to-do-me-no-good
> 
> There's also a link for the playlist on my blog.


End file.
